Perspectives, and other views of the Bridge

There comes a point when you have no idea if what you write is good or bad.

I strongly suspect this is awful, but I quite like it anyway.  In my mind it's never been about the First World War.  Or me.

What do you think?

Digging Graves in No Man’s Land

I had to do it.

You could not let them lie.
They would have had a good death,
Without me.

Who could have let them go
When thoughts of home
Invaded?

That warm and safe place
So far away
From this.

The rules I made and broke.
The top was welcome
When I went over.

Who came with me
In love and expectation?

Mowed down
From which side?

Is the enemy my friend,
Or just
The victor?
Alone in No Man’s Land.
Digging.

30/01/2012