Trapped Poem by Angela Wybrow

For hours on end, we are trapped in the trenches,
Where the air hangs heavy and constantly stenches;
We are trapped in a nightmare: a real living hell,
As we dodge bullets, disease, and shell after shell.
The conditions, which we endure, are really quite dire -
We are surrounded by rats, and mud and reams of barbed wire.
We wade through water, which is often waist deep,
And we are pretty damn lucky if we can catch any sleep.
All around us, lie the dead and the dying,
But, we'll never give up: we will just keep on trying.