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Writer's pictureCLIVE WARD

IN THIS PLACE THAT WE CALL HELL


With the night sky on fire

The barrage in full flow

The shells they land around us

Only one place to go


To the bottom our trenches

Huddled up amongst the brave

But the enemy bombs keep falling

On what could become our grave


When the shelling starts, I shake

Like the ground beneath my feet.

At the moment I can hide it,

Not wanting to be weak.


I think about my loved ones

The fields of pastures green

I think about my little boy

Whose face I’ve never seen


The order came down the line

A single flare was fired

Get ready here we go boys

We ran towards the wire


Take cover in the craters

The fog is getting deeper

The dead are all around us

A harvest for the reaper


Back safely in our trench

The roll call is read

The absence of the voices

Of the missing and the dead.


Looking out across No Man’s Land,

At the wood, so bravely taken

Lay a cemetery of unburied men.

For they will never waken


I did not get to say goodbye

To the brave men that fell

But they will never be forgotten

In this place that we call hell


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