Clean-up was always the worst 

A daunting but necessary task 

Picking old rounds up from the range sand 

Or washing your blood from the gunners platform 

Leaving the world better than we found it 


When will they understand?

Not every piece can be picked up perfectly 

Hidden images will haunt me 

Longer than that brass under the sandbag 

You left me in this world, in pieces 


-unknown