A Hillside In France. Poem by Sam Betts

On a hillside in France I heard my heart beat amidst smoke and fire they sounded retreat
My comrades ran past with out even a glance then the enemy approached that hillside in France
I stood and faced them I felt so calm I held no weapon I meant them no harm
To try to resist I wouldn't stand a chance
Death is no stranger to soldiers in France.
They don't look at me they look at my feet and I realise I no longer hear my heart beat
I glance down to see what used to be me my eyes like a dead fish they no longer see
And a German boy cries because he is the one that killed my mother when he killed her son.
Boy please go home to your girl live love and dance and tell them about me on this hillside in France.