I looked into his eyes and saw a man,
the same as me,
with hopes and dreams and dreams and worries,
a wife, a family,
he didn’t want to be here,
in this hell of no-mans land,
a common man like me he was,
who could not understand,
the reason for this bloody war,
in a far off foreign land.
I looked into his eyes and saw fear,
the same as mine,
we still hear the battle raging,
guns firing down the line,
we hear the cries of dying pals,
of men both friend and foe,
as we lie here in this shell hole,
and we watch our life blood flow.
I look into his eyes,
they are dying,
just like mine.
© Marion Tonge
April 2015.
