seven men down - a short poem

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One man down

No time to mourn


Two men down

Have to survive

These dead men are gone, now.


Three men down

Breathe and get through this

Swallow my pride and nausea


Four men down

Too much blood

Too much mud

I'm losing my mind....and my mates


Five men down

Falling bodies

Flying bullets

No, No, No


Six men down

No.

I cannot do this anymore.

...Oh no, a flying shell


Seven men down,

I'm sorry I let the king down

But tell ma I loved her.



*AUTHORS NOTE*

I hope you liked this! Yes, I wrote this poem. By the way, ma means mother. I will be writing more war-related poems soon, sooo stay tuned! You can email me at: poeticrr'outlook.com. Or, just message me! Thank you so so much, this isn't going to get a lot of likes e.t.c but every little helps as the fellow Tesco says xD. 


Thank you, Kat.



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