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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