My feet smell <br />by the looks of them, also swell... <br /> <br />‘Tween my toes be blisters breaking into sores <br />not pleasant to see, puss oozes through the pores… <br /> <br />Shoes aren't much use <br />worn laceless and loose... <br /> <br />Still they’re better than just feet <br />shards of spent shrapnel shred feet into meat… <br /> <br />I write this unsure the censor allows, you to see <br />life here, surrounding, affecting me… <br /> <br />Tis night just now <br />as I write this to thou… <br /> <br />Dawn’s about to break <br />to herald the day, even another wake... <br /> <br />Ernie’s doing well <br />a great shot, each one marked with a dele… <br /> <br />Rigged a frame does he <br />able to shoot through a mirror to see… <br /> <br />Phil catches rats, they scamper the trench, <br />better than a cat is he, one rat with one fist clench... <br /> <br />They gas us two days ago <br />that is until the wind began to slow... <br /> <br />Still seven succumb <br />one a chum... <br /> <br />Three die that time <br />they say gas on the battlefield a crime… <br /> <br />Funny that, determining such death legality <br />yet machine gun bullets and bombs rain with glee... <br /> <br />Home by christmas I hear one say <br />yet wager none of my pay on that day… <br /> <br />Must end this now <br />corporal readies us for chow... <br /> <br />Over the top we go at dawn <br />full with bravado yet so forlorn... <br /> <br />I’ll write again tomorrow <br />on some paper I’ve yet to borrow... <br /> <br />Should the postman no more tomorrow deliver <br />worry not, don’t drown your liver... <br /> <br />Think of me as I be, <br />not wounded or maimed but free… <br /> <br />Give my love to our mother <br />tell her, I love her like no other… <br /> <br />And to you father, I tell you for sure <br />I am the soldier, the warrior and here for the tour<br /><br />Philip Bond<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-letter-home/
