Don't love the message of this one, but it's well written
You love us when we're heroes, home on leave,
Or wounded in a mentionable place.
You worship decorations; you believe
That chivalry redeems the war's disgrace.
You make us shells. You listen with delight,
By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled.
You crown our distant ardours while we fight,
And mourn our laurelled memories when we're killed.
You can't believe that British troops "retire"
When hell's last horror breaks them, and they run,
Trampling the terrible corpses—blind with blood.
O German mother dreaming by the fire,
While you are knitting socks to send your son
His face is trodden deeper in the mud.
YOU ARE READING
𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩- 𝙰 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
PoetryAn anthology of some of my favorite poems. Expect a lot of Edgar Allan Poe and World War I poetry. All credit for poems go to the orginal authors.