Mud.
Mud everywhere.
Honestly, I can't get over how muddy it is.
I'm covered.
In the stuff.
Mother sent some clean socks,
But I accidentally dropped them in the mud.
I bloody hate mud.
Friday, 16 July 2010
A World War One poem by Siegfried Sissy
Labels:
mud,
poetry,
the creative process of an idiot,
war poems,
world war one
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