I step up to the front line,
Holding a gun that is not mine,
Why do we have to kill?

The bullets come shooting past,
How long does this war have to last?
I want to come home…

The trenches are so cold,
My feet are turning in to mould
Why is this happening to me?

How is this so right?
All of us in a fight,
Why does this happen?

A shell explodes,
The ground erodes,
Am I going to die?

I am only 17 years old,
Will my story ever be told,
Will I ever get back home?