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Mud filled trenches

riddled with famine and death

clutch tight the locket from home

dip the pen in blood and write back.

The air smells thick with sulfur gas

the horses cry out for sweet release

food runs sparse and the wounded howl

with fresh clean socks worth their weight in gold.

Fireworks shoot across a barren patch

of bodies, barbed wire, and broken homes

clouds of smoke, a toxic miasma

and the sound of saws cutting through the bone.

Mommy, when is daddy coming home?

I don't know, sweety, we'll have to wait and see.

Dear family, I won't be home for Christmas

You'll just have to celebrate without me.

Mommy, who's that man coming to the door?

I don't know, sweety, we'll have to wait and see.

Dear family, I'm sorry to say he's gone.

Mommy, when is daddy coming home?