Side by Side
A boy of 17 marching in step,
His pals to the front and rear,
Cheering, waving crowds and brass bands played
As his mother crumpled with tears
Excited and so brave and with new friends he’d made
Uniforms all donned; to a foreign field they sailed
All was quiet, still and eerie save the squeak of the rat
They stood in rancid water as their feet did silently rot
They ate and slept and cried and bled in a pit side by side
One by one the pals were lost, to a sniper, to the gas, to the flies
Then the day the order came, ‘o’er the top lads, don’t be afraid’
Suddenly his heart lurched and went home, the place he truly craved
A man now at 17 - a deep breath he took,
He saw his home, his mother and shook
But didn’t cry as he folded and crumpled
To the ground with his pals side by side.
Renia Piskozub 19.10.09
