Jake Savage


Even Praying.

Beneath the glaring, scaring clouds; raining.
The Germans and British, both paining.
On the frontline, stuck serving.
I was stuck saying; even praying.

In the Somme; a mate, a pal, a friend; gone,
A single blast, a sound, the shot of a gun.
Lifeless he stayed there laying.
I was stuck saying; even praying.

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