A while ago, we wrote a poem in class by combining various lines from other poems (“Dolce Est Decorum Est” – Wilfred Owen, “Break of Day in the Trenches” – Isaac Rosenberg, “The Conscript” – Wilfred Gibson, and “Dreamers” – Siegfried Sasson). The theme of all the poems was war because we just finished reading All Quiet on the Western Front.
The final poem my group came up with was:
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
It seems, odd thing, you grin as you pass
Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes,
Then suddenly I shudder as I see
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
What do you see in our eyes
The torn fields of France.