Who killed our sons
Both the Tommies and Huns?
Us, said the guns.
We killed your sons
Who saw them die?
I said the fly
Through my wicked black eye
I saw them die
Who drank their blood?
I, said the mud
Where the mortar bombs thud
I drank their blood
Who dug their grave?
None could I save
Said the fierce battle wave
Neither gallant or knave
Who profits from that
Like skittles knocked flat?
Through them I grew fat…
I did, said the rat
Who tolled the bell
For them as they fell?
In the gateway of Hell
I did, whined the shell
Were our soldiers misled?
So many, all dead
For victory they bled
The Old War monger said
When does grief end?
You must labour to mend
Our lost family, my friend
Said the ghosts in the wind
sheena blackhall
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/war-1914-1918/
