|
|
Blighters
By Siegfried Loraine Sassoon
The house is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
"We're sure the Kaiser loves the dear old Tanks!"
I'd like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or "Home, sweet Home," -
And there'd be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 325 times.
|
|
