I met a Soldier

I met a soldier,
Dark skinned and bold,
He was like a witch's cauldron,
His face was just a mould.

Shells had done this to him,
Broken every tiny bone,
"Smashed out" as he would have said,
Injured and alone.

Everything seems wrong
War, fear, dread,
Nowhere to belong.

 The soldier is dead. 

         
Callum Lambert