World War 1 Poem – Molly

Men trudging onto the cold, dark, wet buses.
Families wave goodbye with tears streaming down their faces.
Young children grow up without fathers to teach them things a mother can’t.
Backpacks and helmets, jackets and gas masks.
No one is ready, for what might come.
The small busses pull up at a site where men climb into the backs of trucks, expecting the worst.
Trenches are dug deep into the ground and little shelters -hardly houses- are built.
The first day, limbs lost.
Men drowning in their own blood.
Gas filling the air.
No one can stand up.
Their bodies weak and lie all through the trenches.
The hideouts have been spotted and there is no hope.

One thought on “World War 1 Poem – Molly

  1. Hi I like your use of words they really fit with this topic. PS thisis Trayton from 6gle.

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