Poetry & Creative Writing

Bullet Backs- In the muddy trench

I watched the sky scream as bombs thrashed and burnt men. Metal pieces bit my hands and my shoulders. Bodies lay on the dirty ground, blood pouring in streams on there chests and there eyebrows. Bullets soared above my face, and planes crashed into the sea. Guns made my men have bullet backs. Choking and sweating they fell with there bullet backs. I will fall too with my German bullet back