Wilfred Owen
Shropshire / England
Explore Poems GO!


Rating: 2.9
'You! What d'you mean by this?' I rapped.
'You dare come on parade like this?'
'Please, sir, it's-' ''Old yer mouth,' the sergeant snapped.
'I takes 'is name, sir?'-'Please, and then dismiss.'

Some days 'confined to camp' he got,
For being 'dirty on parade'.
He told me, afterwards, the damnèd spot
Was blood, his own. 'Well, blood is dirt,' I said.
'Blood's dirt,' he laughed, looking away,
Read More
jnkim 05 November 2018
mjnkl; '; lkjnhjkl; /'@? ; ., lmn
0 1 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 27 May 2016
But when we're duly white-washed, being dead, The race will bear Field-Marshal God's inspection.' really.. ready for 'inspection'.. and then found in 'perfect' order..: (
11 1 Reply
Jane Moon 03 June 2009
An odd thing, in military inspection the appearance is more important than the reality of war. How humbling to talk with a man who has shed his own blood in war - his vision is focused on the end and 'God's inspection'. Sad reality.
8 7 Reply

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

5/13/2021 8:36:50 PM #