Do You Remember?

A hundred years gone and past,
the fighting dwindled and died at last.
But do you remember those rainy days?
Fighting on as friends passed away?

The river of death flowed on,
awakening at the crack of dawn,
another day of grief and pain,
fighting in the pouring rain.

Gunshots, screaming, cries for help,
hearing our helpless comrades yelp.
Nothing can be done; none can be saved,
dying in the drizzle of rain.

Waterlogged boots, clothes drenched.
On the fire step, guarding the trench.
Filling sandbags, o'er walls so steep.
Trying to catch up on months of sleep.

The wounded cry out in hurt,
tears stream down our tattered shirts.
Eyes once bright now remain dim,
as the firelight floods in.

Death, hurt, and despair.
No longer an emotion there,
on the face of the boy once kind,
now out of sight and out of mind.

But shall we remember to never forget,
the men who died by the parapets.
For life as we know it would never be,
as good as we nowadays see.

A hundred years gone and past,
the fighting dwindled and died at last.
But do you remember those rainy days?
Fighting at the brink of day?

RIP To those who died in service to their countries.