Old Guys Straight To The Front Lines

Goddamn trenches were ten feet deep.

Filthy creeping mud walls so goddamn steep

A bayonet stabber could see defeat

If they looked far down in the hole boy.

Nothin’ even close to home joy.

The rats are taking over.

We can hear supplies a commin’!

Then they hit the bloody mortar

And the evening began humming

A slow number from Algonquin

Felt like a full on haunting

As it was.

Yes it was.

Yes it was…

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