Shot By My Own Army

by | Sep 23, 2014 | Poetry | 0 comments

I sit alone in my own world
For I know for me that the clock is ticking
Its endless movement through time
Till I shall be no more.
My crime you ask?
I failed my task
I ran instead of fighting.
They called me a coward
They stripped me of my rank.
They could do no more
As my heart had sank
Too far and too frightened
To face the next call.
So I went over the wrong wall.
My head was so full of what I had seen.
My own men going over
All fired up and keen
So few would come back.
I began to say
Is it right for men to die this way?
I would shake in fear
Couldn’t sleep, light a fag!
Cannot take this strain
Of seeing my men going over again
Never to return.
100 years on
You give them a gong
You praise them
You help to rebuild them.
You have even given it a name.
Shell Shock or
Post Traumatic Stress
Well my shock
Was being in hell
Listening for the incoming shell
Living in my private hell
No-one to tell
About the thousands who fell.
I couldn’t stop it.
So that’s why I sit
Watching the clock
Ticking my life away.
Six hours to go
Before the knock on the door
Tells me I shall be no more.
No medal for me
No glorious salute
Just a hole in the ground
With no-one around
To care or witness
My passing.


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