This work is by Ivor Gurney. A little known war poet of WW1. He served as a privet through out the war. Survived but ended his life a patient in a psychiatric hopital hospital.


THE TARGET - WW1 POEM IVOR GURNEY

I SHOT HIM, IT HAD TO BE
ONE OF US 'TWAS HIM OR ME
'COULN'T BE HELPED AND NO CAN BLAME
ME, FOR YOU WOULD DO THE SAME

MY MOTHER, SHE CANT SLEEP FOR FEAR
OF WHAT MIGHT BE A-HAPPENING HEAR
TO ME. PERHAPS IT MIGHT BE BEST
TO DIE, AND SET HER FEARS SAT AT REST

FOR WORST IS WORST, AND WORRY'S DONE.
PERHAPS HE WAS, AND ONLY SON...
YET GOD KEEPS STILL, AND DOES NOT SAY
A WORD OF GUIDANCE ANYWAY

WELL, IF THEY GET ME, FIRST I'LL FIND
THAT BOY, AND TELL HIM ALL MY MIND,
AND SEE WHO FELT THE BULLET WORST
AND ASK HIS, HIS PARDON, IF IF I DURST

ALL'S A TANGLE. HERE'S MY JOB.
A MAN MIGHT RAVE, OR SOB;
AND GOD HE TAKES NO SORT OF HEED
THIS IS A BLOODY MESS INDEED

IVOR GURNEY 28 August 1890 - 26 December 1937






Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-11-11 at 20:09

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shells
I hadn't heard of him, so thanks Ken. It's a poignant, sad read.
2020-11-11