Thick gravy mud incessantly pulling at my boots,
******* and squelching it’s distaste at its failure with each step I evade its clutches,
Brown hail flying in all directions ripping into flesh and taking eyes,
Ears reverberating with the excruciating din of falling shells,
Accompanied with the desperate screams  of my comrades.
Like hells orchestra,
Low rumbles culminating in shrieking sopranos,
Piercing, Deafening,
It’s very lack of percussion spreads fear throughout the ranks,
Through it all there comes a sinister silence,
The true calm before the next storm,
Medics being screamed for in every direction,
Instructions being bellowed to grasp some pathetic sense of order,
In this chaotic pandemonium we push on without hope,
Following orders,
The crescendo of destruction starts again,
Louder, Angrier,
The poetic lunacy of dying in vain,
Our last moments played out like some poorly written depraved play,
Cannon fodder,
Our own remains serving as the uneven carpet of sickly maroon within our trench,
The smell so powerful that I baulk,
Eyes constantly stinging and streaming,
All my senses being flayed in unison,
This is the price we pay for your freedom,
This is the truth of what we endure,
So many deserving so much yet left with so little,
Lest we forget,
Lest we forget.
Lest we forget.

“What were things like when you were young, What were people like”

“Let me tell you my young friend,
Things were different when I grew up,
Men were men, women were women,
There were a few gays but no one cared one way or the other,
It was about how you were not who you were,
People should remember that nowadays,
People were different when I grew up,
We’d never seen anyone that wasn’t white,
It was exciting and different when we started to see new people,
Not what we were used to,
I think it’s amazing that people want to be who they are,
They should be free to be themselves,
Things were just different when I grew up,
We didn’t care for fancy names and new things,
We were happy to have shoes on our feet and food in our bellies,
I heard someone was killed for their sports shoes,
I don’t get it,
Shoes ?
Things really were different when I grew up,
We’d leave our doors unlocked without a care,
I think we were so grateful for what we did have that we didn’t stop to think about what we didn’t have,
We would wait for things to come,
Not like today where everyone wants things yesterday,
So busy thinking of what they want I think they’ve forgotten what they have,
No one seems to live in the present,
They don’t want to talk to me,
They’d rather talk to a stranger in another country,
I suppose I’m the same,
Living in the past,
But things were different in the past,
We were never prejudiced,
Why would we of been,
We had not much to offer and not much to lose,
It’s a new thing,
The fear and the bullying,
The greed and the violence,
I think a lot of people have gone mad,
If you keep showing people nice shiny things they’ll want them,
Then if you tell them it’s not shiny anymore,
They’ll want a new one,
And if they can’t afford a new one ,
Well,
We were better off without all the new shiny things,
Things weren’t so shiny back then,
Maybe it made it easier for us,
Too much choice isn’t always a good thing,
Most of us were good people though but we did have our bad,
But there was enough good to deal with it,
I think the balance has shifted somewhat,
Then there’s this social media your all obsessed with,
Giving the bad people a mask to hide behind,
It’s a shame,
Things were more honest back then,
All these technical media things are amazing but it’s changed people,
I think it gives them power to control a lot more stuff,
It’s a lot of pressure,
I wouldn’t want all that responsibility,
I think that’s why i struggle now,
Because I remember a better time,
When people were generally better,
The world was so different back then,
This isn’t  my world anymore,
I often wish I was back then.
I've not long left though then I can rest,
Maybe go back the and see my  friends,
Thanks for asking and listening though,
It doesn’t happen much at my age,
I hope you do well,
Good luck my young friend.”

For as long as he could remember he had perfected the art of illusion,
For he has never really been what people see,
Only what he needed people to see,
He was scared to truly be himself for fear that the deviant darkness within,
Once released would know no boundaries.
He wasn’t being untruthful or fake, just realistic in regards to what was acceptable to his society which included those he loved,
He wondered if everyone was truly hiding themselves or was it just him,
He knew that he would never truly know,
Because to know the truth would unravel a whole life of effort spent sustaining the image that cost a lifetime to create,
And to be honest,
He didn’t have the heart to break anyone else’s.

I think God was robbed,
Just when he’d almost finished the job.
It’s a shame,
Someone definitely stole some of the parts of his game.
There’s some honour missing,
And loyalty too,
I’ve got all mine but some’s missing in you,
And there’s sympathy - i know I’m a bit short,
I don’t like to admit it but I have to report,
Oh and trust,
There’s a whack of that missing,
I can tell by the way that people are kissing,
But the biggest by far is that faith’s definitely gone,
People seem lost like they know somethings wrong,
Poor God,
So close to finishing his work,
I thought he’d be angry but he turned with a smirk,
Guess what he said when I asked what he’ll do,
He said -
“ Nothings been taken, it’s just how I made you”