'O Jesus Christ! I'm hit,'he said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed,
The Bullets chipped-In vein! vain! vain!
Machine-guns chuckled,-Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Gun gunffawed.
Another sighed,-'O Mother, Mother! Dad!'
Then smiled, at nothing, childlike, being dead.
And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud
Leisurely gestured,-fool!
And the falling splinters tittered.
'My Love!' one moaned. Love-languid seemed his mood,
Till, slowly lowered, his whole face kissed the mud.
And the Bayonets' long teeth grinned;
Tables of Shells booted and groaned;
And the Gas hissed.
Wilfred Owen
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the first world war
Poetrythese at some if my favourite poems from the first world war. And it is really sad that this would happen to inesent life's
