War
-
Christopher Mackenzie, Grade 8
-
Poetry
-
2006
We fought this battle through shot and shell,
Into the roaring jaws of hell.
To stand our ground was our desire,
The surrounding land was afire.
The nurses tended to all our wounds,
It felt like we had been shot with harpoons.
The constant whistle of raining shells,
Added to the screams and yells.