by | Jan 26, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

The enemies’ tanks roar past
It’s such a blast
To drive a tank so fast

Its pitch black and I can’t see a thing
I hope they don’t see me
Little old me
So small next to their big tanks

The tankies clatter
They move so fast
They obviously think it’s a blast
To move so fast

They roar their engines
The clouds of smoke
It makes us choke

Little infantier they sneer
What do you hold so dear
Those tankies they like to sneer
We infantiers so small next to their big tanks

I look up and smile
I lie there gently stroking my anti-tank gun
Not so big now


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