In the Trenches Tonight 
  
We sit here in the trenches,
thinking will it ever end,
the general has to many expenses,
he has no food to send.

I think of my wife at home,
and curl her lock of hair,
around my finger bare,
around my finger bare.

The shells are falling,
     through the night,
and curl her lock of hair
around my finger bare.

 The blood is running warm and thick,
the sight it makes  me sick,
and curl her lock of hair
around my finger bare.

In my bed I wake,
the memories I cannot escape,
and curl her lock of hair
around my finger bare...

Tom Parkinson