Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Comments about Wilfred Owen

  • its ya boy ali-a today lets click bait (9/14/2018 10:45:00 AM)

    wazzzz upppp dudududududududududududududududududududududududududududududud i have a gold gun in solid gold

    5 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • cOol kiD (9/13/2018 8:39:00 AM)

    hello children i like potatoes

  • fortnite (9/11/2018 11:18:00 PM)

    fortnite dasnce mackelmore

  • fortnite (9/11/2018 11:18:00 PM)

    when madden turns into a irl battle royale

  • Mac Miller (9/11/2018 11:09:00 PM)

    haha i beat you. I died at 26

  • yo-yo (8/28/2018 5:05:00 AM)


  • old fruit (8/28/2018 4:58:00 AM)

    he is (was) very encouraging and talented

  • 6ix9ne (8/19/2018 6:59:00 PM)


  • big energy (8/15/2018 8:42:00 PM)

    this fella has big energy

  • J sins (8/5/2018 6:13:00 AM)

    Ayyeee my dude Wilfred

Best Poem of Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.- ...

Read the full of Dulce Et Decorum Est


'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.

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