​A poem for #Somme100 

​A poem for #Somme100
Seven Thirty.
Morning of the first.
Guns fall silent.
Boys ready.
Whistles blown.
Over the top they go.
For glory
For honour
For King and for country
Over the top
They go.
By days end
Sixty thousand dead & wounded.
By Days end.
By battles end
Five months later
Over one million dead, wounded or captured.
Our boys from Blighty & the commonwealth.
Never to return.
Never the same.
The bloody Somme.
A place of no return.
By Colin Nicholl


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