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Poetry from within


Here I sit on a lonely park bench,

I try hard to forget the shallow, dark trench,

I try hard to forget the filth and blood,

And the bodies of friends lying in the mud.

I try to forget that feeling of fear,

As a German patrol drew closer and near,

I try hard to forget taking a life,

That man I killed would’ve had a child and wife.

I WILL remember the friends I have lost,

And the war that happened at such a great cost,

I can now feel myself slipping away,

I knew that I’d see my friends one day.

Oliver Simms 7/5 7R