One Last Song

• Zoe Formby, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2020

Sitting in the trenches with a gun in my hand
When I wish i'm at home playing with my band,
Looking at the pretty stars above so bright
Wondering if I will survive the night,
Watching soldiers charge and fight
I pick p my gun and join the plight,
Writing letters to all who care, searching my mind but all is bare,
Get up and fight, look around every corner
Feeling like every fight is torcher,
Breathing so no one hears, trying to dry away my tears,
Running along the old dirty plains
I get hit, fall down and scream in pain,
Blood rushing from my chest
Wondering if this has been for the best,
Laying on the dirty plains, soldiers surrounding holding my hand
I just wanted to play one last song with my band