Trenches

My feet rest on the muddy ground, 
limp from distress, 
as I peak over the sandbag mound, 
in to no-mans-land.
German snipers stare at me we look eye to eye,
they miss me by half an inch,
then gas goes flying by.
I cough, I breath, I sneeze.
My stomach lurches from within, 
I collapse with effortless ease,
to the rotting flesh beneath my feet.

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