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roger-turnerPoems
I remember watching Grandad Whenever it would rain He would walk around the house a lot You could tell he was in pain See, Grandad fought in World War One Though he never said a word He was hearing things inside his head Things no one ever heard He hated rain, it made the mud And that's where it began Fighting, deep within the trenches Keeping dry as best you can Everything was always wet You fought the *** and fought the sky The battle in the trenches seemed To find ways to keep dry Fifty yards away, no more The enemy was waiting Would today be when we made a move Both sides always waiting There were no birds up in the sky Just clouds and all that rain That war was stuck in Grandads head And it was driving him insane My dad would watch as Grandad walked To hide from that **** sound You know that all he thought of then Was that trench, and muddy ground You'd wrap yourself in what you could You'd use uniforms of the dead Taken from your cohorts Soaked in mud, and stained blood red Boots, soaked through like paper Feet wrapped up as best you could The mud was everlasting It covered everything but good Dad, said it was painful To watch Grandad on those days He would hide so deep within himself In a deep, dark, mental maze The sun, it never dried the earth The water just sat in little pools With the sunlight bouncing off of it Leaving drops shining like jewels The smell, of rotting corpses Piled high down at the end Bodies of the fallen The bodies of your friends Dad said it was different When he went off to fight It wasn't like his father's war It was just like day and night I remember when my Grandad passed It rained the whole day through I remember as they lowered him Now, I know what Grandad knew The mud, the worms, the water Filled his little six foot trench And everyone was soaked on through In my mind, I smelled the stench I feel sorry for my Grandad Because in truth, I like the rain And I feel so sorry for him That it caused him so much pain The horror of the battle And the act of keeping dry You might defeat the enemy But, not both...but, you'd try I remember watching Grandad And of how he hated rain But, my Grandad was my hero And, now I know...he's out of pain
0
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
The rain
I remember watching Grandad Whenever it would rain He would walk around the house a lot You could tell he was in pain See, Grandad fought in World War One Though he never said a word He was hearing things inside his head Things no one ever heard He hated rain, it made the mud And that's where it began Fighting, deep within the trenches Keeping dry as best you can Everything was always wet You fought the *** and fought the sky The battle in the trenches seemed To find ways to keep dry Fifty yards away, no more The enemy was waiting Would today be when we made a move Both sides always waiting There were no birds up in the sky Just clouds and all that rain That war was stuck in Grandads head And it was driving him insane My dad would watch as Grandad walked To hide from that **** sound You know that all he thought of then Was that trench, and muddy ground You'd wrap yourself in what you could You'd use uniforms of the dead Taken from your cohorts Soaked in mud, and stained blood red Boots, soaked through like paper Feet wrapped up as best you could The mud was everlasting It covered everything but good Dad, said it was painful To watch Grandad on those days He would hide so deep within himself In a deep, dark, mental maze The sun, it never dried the earth The water just sat in little pools With the sunlight bouncing off of it Leaving drops shining like jewels The smell, of rotting corpses Piled high down at the end Bodies of the fallen The bodies of your friends Dad said it was different When he went off to fight It wasn't like his father's war It was just like day and night I remember when my Grandad passed It rained the whole day through I remember as they lowered him Now, I know what Grandad knew The mud, the worms, the water Filled his little six foot trench And everyone was soaked on through In my mind, I smelled the stench I feel sorry for my Grandad Because in truth, I like the rain And I feel so sorry for him That it caused him so much pain The horror of the battle And the act of keeping dry You might defeat the enemy But, not both...but, you'd try I remember watching Grandad And of how he hated rain But, my Grandad was my hero And, now I know...he's out of pain
#war#pain#rain#battle#fight#water#soldier#mud#worms
roger-turner
Written by
roger-turner
Canadian
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
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