I’ll try to build a picture, as you relax in the comfort of your home.
Try to show you the horror, and the fear of the unknown.
Hopefully let you see inside of your minds eye.
The face of a friend as you sit and watch him die.
But is seeing believing, when you have seen it on TV.
It’s the smell, smell and warmth that bring it back to me.
The look upon his face as he’s hit by the round.
And the unnatural way he falls, and then lies upon the ground.
See his eyes squint in pain, or is it the glaring sun.
As he stares in to your face, and whisper’s mum.
You hold his hand tightly, and try to stem the blood.
It runs through your fingers and soaks into the mud.
Medic, Medic you call, and then he appears,
You continue to help, but can not help the tears
The medic does his best, as the rounds still fly.
But you can’t hear a thing as you watch your mate die.