Five months on the front
Between Arras and Albert
Both sides hunt
For the other

Redcoats and Frogs side by side
Putting away their hate
Both filled with pride
To fight

Drain the Fritz of their resources
Push them back as far as they could
But the enemy observes
And are waiting

Huge frontal attack, approached on foot
Ordered by General Haig
The Germans stayed put
And killed from afar

July 1st was day one
November 18th was the last
When all the guns
Were dead

It was the bloodiest battle anyone saw
Over one million deceased
No mortal law
Ruled here

13 Kilometers were gained
Using tanks and heavy gear
Reserves were drained
Yet no one cared

Friends, fathers, husbands, brothers,
Fought and lost their lives
For the children, sisters, wives and mothers
Who were left behind

Only gravediggers make money here

It gets better they promised
they lied
now i am standing here young-tied
not sure how to explain myself
the words the looks the thoughts
led past the point of no return
kicking and screaming i tried to release
from the bonds that constricted my soul
a convict escaping through a tunnel
i dug my way to hell and back

It gets better they said
as they stood and watched me fall into oblivion
day after day sinking deeper into the darkness
begging for the solace that never came

It gets better she said
as she took a knife and cut you from the picture
yet you clung to lost hope and broken dreams
the lies and the betrayal came to you like air
breathing in the false truths
basking in the tears
feigning innocence and guilt
For the wrong reasons

It gets better i chant
as I try to see the good you don't have
the good that has been gone my whole life
abandoning me and him
leaving us to bleed from the wounds the secrets caused

Does it get better
i wonder as i witness your actions
you who has ripped apart the carefully placed stitches
you who tore apart my heart and picked apart my brain
all because you laugh at the pain you cause

Tomorrow will be better
i plead on my knees
bearing my soul to the God that you taught me to believe in
the God who you claim to follow
yet your actions say otherwise

With time it gets better...
does it?

I remember a time when life was simple.
My imagination could run wild
without the fear of being snuffed out;
when I was beguiled
about life.

I commemorate the moments of freedom,
the seconds of innocence.
When I was not constricted to any doubt.
When there was justice
for petty mistakes.

I reminisce in the stages of childhood;
each one new and exciting.
When there was no set route,
and I was not abiding
by unknown rules.
That time, the moments, those stages
are gone.

Life is no longer simple.
I am no longer free, but a prisoner
Becoming less wild and more ‘domestic.’
Being shaped into a lie
by societies expectations.

I remember a time when life was simple
And I could be anyone I wanted.