I KNEW a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN INVITE TO ETERNITY by JOHN CLARE WORK WITHOUT HOPE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE BIRD OF PARADISE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 52 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MARCH by EDMUND SPENSER PSALM 82 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |