STUCK in a FOXHOLE

Oh crap! I landed in the mud, and landed here head first.
This mud is thick and mucky, the kind that is the worse.
But, it saved me from the shrapnel, that whizzed by overhead.
And if I didn't make it here, I would now be dead.

Body parts fly over me, from the ones who moved too slow.
They hesitated, looked around, and found no place to go.
My buddy's helmet landed, in my hole, by my feet.
I'm afraid to pick it up, to see his face like shredded wheat.

The booms and blasts from artillery, plus the small arms fire.
Make you deaf to the screams, of the soldiers in barbed wire.
Night time is the worse, because I can not see.
The blood that is mixing, with the mud that is on me.

Fires all around me, give off an eerie light.
This feels just like a nightmare, I know that it's not right.
This killing just to stay alive, I really have no choice.
I want to keep America, the home of freedom's voice.

Now that it is quiet, I write a letter to my mom.
I tell her that I miss her, as I hear another bomb.
I don't mention that I've killed, or the friend that I just lost.
Just that I love my freedom, and I know how much it cost.

© Ronald A. Britton, All rights reserved

by Sgt B