We only
Lived
On hopes.
We used
To say,
"Every shell has a man's number."
There were Several
Pieces of men
Lying about.
It
was
raining.
I slipped on
My mask,
But did so
Too late.
Sinking,
I noticed the
Dirt crack.
All of a sudden,
I became
Buried alive.
Lee had been
Buried alive.
It
got
dark.
My legs
Had been
Broken.
Fellows whom we
Had left behind,
Joined us.
{Lines from a man sharing his experience in the war and put into a poem. I tried.}
YOU ARE READING
The words I keep inside
PoetryFeelings from Me, You, Her, Him, we... Feelings that we feel, and are not seen... When our sun is covered, and we wish to die.... Something shines from another light... We look to the sky, and have little hope.... Then our sun shines again, with mor...
