What they never said

When you’ve seen your mate, you shared a laugh
and a smoke, turn into something you couldn’t bury

When you’ve shat yourself as the whistle calls you
over the top and you climb slow to let the eager die

When you’ve looked into the eyes of a man and see
the child calling for mummy but still you stab him dead

Then you’ll keep the home fires silent and make a
garden clear of poppies for the children to find laughter.

Published in The Stare’s Nest

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