As I stand here at the battlefront,
I imagine myself at home.

Artilleries firing over my head,
Oh how I wish I was in my bed…

Grenades are being thrown from each trench,
The rats are causing a terrible stench.

As I look around me I reload my gun,
I’m not exactly having fun!

I really don’t like this dreaded place,
I feel bad, shooting people face to face.

There were no birds tweeting,
Listen to the rules or get a beating

Overall this place is rough,
But I will push through it, I am tough.

As I wade through the mud,
I am splattered with my own blood.

I really do have to be brave,
As this trench will be my grave…