Daily Prompt, poetry, Stories, thoughts, writing

Passchendaele

bad poetry

Machine gun fire echoes through the night
Another bloody battle, another bloody fight
Bodies of the mortal lay dead upon the scene
A field of wild grasses was once the colour green
Now littered with devastation and the bodies of the dead
The grass has gone from green and turned a shade of red.

Soldiers fighting and dying out on the front line
In the mud they lay at rest every death so asinine
Houses, buildings, roads nothing shall live on
There is no glory in winning when everything is gone.

When night time falls the generals give their orders
The battle rages on and there is no need for borders
The general gives his order, on a plan that he contrives
They pay the price for war, is innocent young men’s lives

A thousand soldiers march a beat, there’s boots upon the ground
They can’t escape the fact that some wont be homeward bound
At least 400 thousand dead, numbers impossible to compile
The numbers dead, the numbers dying don’t make the cost worthwhile

With more than half a million dead and only six miles of land won
They know that many have suffered but the war still rages on
On their knees and through the mud the soldiers are forced to crawl
The pointlessness of war what’s the purpose of it all?

They know that men will suffer, they know that men will die
While generals give their orders, soldiers can’t even say goodbye
Orders given, orders obeyed, the enemy must be banished
The generals didn’t care how many of their own had vanished
They’ve lied about the casualties neither side wants to fail
Only way to know the truth, to ask the fields of Passchendaele

4 Comments

  1. I had to look this up and read about it. Thanks for bringing to light a story of the futility of war.

  2. On Miley, Reminds me of Madonna, good businesswoman, but Madonna has a good voice.

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