I have just wrote this poem titled `Sheep shit` showing how life and death on the battlefield can be measured in centimeters.
It was a matter of millimeters
When I hit the ground
I got a mouthful of sheep shit
As I heard that `crack` sound
It had your name on it
It should have been mine
But I will never forget you
My Geordie mate from the Tyne
You were only eighteen
Forever will you remain
Every year I will come and visit
Have a drink just the same
Il will meet you soon in Valhalla
You will see this old man
Take the piss have a laugh
Like when you beet me up Pen y fan
Here have the last of my brandy
As it soaks in your grave
Il wipe away a tear
Green light on…….bye Dave.
© Tony McNally
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