They own a sense of humour,
do the boys that man the trenches.
They need it so that they combat,
the mayhem thrown their way.
They developed extra talents,
that could nullify their senses,
and enable them to carry on,
to fight another day.
Left behind are their home comforts,
and the niceties of life.
They learn the real meanings,
of the words of hunger & strife.
The more they learn,
the more they long to end this bloody war,
return and never, ever tell,
the horrors that they saw.
So they make up funny marching songs,
and sing them as they go.
Put on their smiley faces,
so that we will never know,
of the ghosts that haunt their nightmares,
and torment their troubled souls.
© Catrina Barrett
