WW1 poem

You can hear big bangs all around you. 
Marching around the trenches. 
Explosions in the buildings. 
People are yelling to each other get down.
Smell fire burning in different places. 
People putting gun power in the cannons. 
The smell of smoke from buildings. 
You see people lying on the ground in blood. 
People sleeping in the small trenches. 
Buildings in a small distance. 
Sad people are on look out. 
Hurt families in the village. 
Nervous people shooting people. 
People sat in the trenches crying and writing letters. 

World war 1 is a place of death, 
Marching as loud thunder, 
Barb wire is sharp knives, 
Buildings falling dominos, 
Puddles of blood from soldiers, 
Whistling bombs from the sky, 
The soldiers are scared of death, 
Flying ground is the sky. 

Tanks tattling through the mud. 
Many of my fingers swollen like sausages. 
I crawl over bodies of my torn up best friends. 
Heads, arms and legs flying through the air. 
The shells are tornados ripping up the earth and ground. 
Poison gas burning and rotting my lungs.
I fell so much hatred for these Germans from hell. 
I hate this war to and wish and wish it would end just as well. 

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