Dizzying percussion
like
in
a ditch
In World War I
Only thing saving you is that thin
metal
helmet
But you keep bobbing up
Looking for the enemy
So you can shoot them
or try
But when your head comes up
You become the target you were looking for
There is no other way out
You may lay there hopeless
Waiting
For relief
For someone to inform you its over
For that savior to introduce herself
But she never comes
Instead you keep trying
And aiming
Dodging and Ducking
And when she comes
She shoots you
Between the eyes