I KNEW a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BEACHEY, 1912 by CARL SANDBURG THE FORSAKEN MERMAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD APRIL'S LAMBS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE WILL OF GOD by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER THE PILGRIM FATHERS by JOHN PIERPONT DISILLUSIONMENT OF TEN O'CLOCK by WALLACE STEVENS |