The soldier lays his head upon his pillow,

Closing his eyes looking for rest.

But when his eyes close,

The memories start.

Images slowly appear,

Things he wishes to forget.

He sees a field strewn with bodies,

A man with no legs.

Children lying in pools of blood,

Mangled and torn.

His comrades bloody faces,

Covered in blud and dust.

Before all that the war seemed so glorious,

As though he could go in a boy,

And come home a hero,

With shiny medals and a crisp uniform.

But there was no glory to be had,

Just shell shock.

He entered the war a boy,

And left as a broken man.

Parts missing and damage done,

Unable to take back time.