Poetry by TheWildGooseOfEngland

This is a poem about the horror of the trenches in World War One.

The Runners, the Hiders and the Storytellers

Run from the rats and the death.

Run from the stench of grim fate.

Run from the gas out to steal your breath.

Run from the light of the heavenly gate.

Hide from the shells and the constant fear.

Hide from the threat of being forgotten.

Hide for the ones you hold dear.

Hide from the mud that turns your feet rotten.

Run will those whom wish to ignore,

The pale stare of those lost in the war,

Hide will those who don't understand,

War leaves a mark with a trembling hand.

But those who will not run,

Those who know the warriors' stories are not done,

But brought to life and taught and sung.

Now the truth about the battle is shown,

And the soldiers live on, embedded in mind and stone.