War

• Hayley Freeman, Grade 4
• Poetry
• 2015

War is brown like mud of the trenches,
The taste of the thick, icy air travels slowly,
The sound of a firing gun drifts through the air,
It smells like burning ash spitting out of the fire,
It looks like the wounded, waiting to fight again,
When I think of war, I think of my happiest memories
To remind me how lucky I am.