Suicide in The Trenches by Siegfried Sassoon

I knew a simple soldier boy.....  
Who grinned at life in empty joy,  
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,  
He put a bullet through his brain.  
And no one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye  
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,  
Sneak home and pray you'll never know  
The hell where youth and laughter go.