As an army medic They give me a gun, don’t So I hope the bloomin’ enemy at me for fun. Don’t shoot not what I imagined It’s The sounds and smell of death, All mixed with disinfectant Fairly takes away your breath. never seen such injuries I’ve Inflicted without thought, The stinking smell of chlorine gas And bodies left to rot. The sight of broken bodies Of countless injured men, A scene I must get used to But I know how or when. don’t I for myself haven’t seen it But I hear it often said, One day they called an amnesty To clear away the dead. No sooner had the field been cleared And the dead all packed away, The slaughter started up again Just another bloody day. The operating theatre If you could call it that, A dirty dingy dug-out A food store for a rat. The rats invade the trenches Growing fatter by the day, Gorging on dead bodies No one takes away. There are so many horrors The mind can’t comprehend, No matter how hard you try It gets you in the end. Those who cannot take it Are slowly driven mad, Or later shot as cowards
As an army medic They don’t give me a gun, So I hope the bloomin’ enemy Don’t shoot at me for fun. It’s not what I imagined The sounds and smell of death, All mixed with disinfectant Fairly takes away your breath. I’ve never seen such injuries Inflicted without thought, The stinking smell of chlorine gas And bodies left to rot. The sight of broken bodies Of countless injured men, A scene I must get used to But I don’t know how or when. I haven’t seen it for myself But I hear it often said, One day they called an amnesty To clear away the dead. No sooner had the field been cleared And the dead all packed away, The slaughter started up again Just another bloody day. The operating theatre If you could call it that, A dirty dingy dug-out A food store for a rat. The rats invade the trenches Growing fatter by the day, Gorging on dead bodies No one takes away. There are so many horrors The mind can’t comprehend, No matter how hard you try It gets you in the end. Those who cannot take it Are slowly driven mad, Or later shot as cowards
Voices%20poems.docx