It's Cold, Baby.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
My creative writing teacher wanted us to write a poem in a blues sort of style, and this is what came out of mine. It's dedicated to all people who've experienced the horrors of war, but particularly to those men of WWI who experienced the hell that was trench warfare.

Submitted: July 04, 2008

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Submitted: July 04, 2008



Baby, it’s cold, it’s cold outside,
I’m lyin’ in a trench where men have died.
It’s cold, it’s cold with rain a-fallin’ down,
But there’s hot rain, too, and men fallin' all around.
I came away hot-blooded, marchin’ off to war,
And now it’s so cold out I can’t remember what I’m fightin' for.
Baby it’s cold, it’s cold outside.
I really miss seeing the warm smile in your eyes.
It’s cold in this war, surrounded but alone,
Wishin’ to the heavens I was with you at home.
I see the spittin’ end of the gun,
I watch the bullet fly, and know I’m done.
I scream as the blood explodes from my chest,
I love you honey, I hope you know I did my best.
Baby, I’m cold, I’m cold inside,
I’m lyin’ in a trench where men have died.
Wishin’ you were with me, I close my eyes;
Sorry I didn’t see you one last time, my life leaves me and I die.

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