Dreamers

The Dreamers 

Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land,

Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.

In the great hour of destiny they stand,

Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.

Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win 

Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives. 

Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin 

They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dugouts, gnawed by rats,

And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain. 

Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,

And mocked by hopeless longing to regain

Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats, 

And going to the office in the train.

by Siegfred Sassoon

A few years back I made a rip-off of this poem, which I still like alot till this day as I was browsing through my older entries, maybe because what I made mostly wasn't mine.

The Dreamers Revisited

Students are citizens of school's grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In these great hours of drudgery they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.

Students are sworn to the threadmill; they must score
Some flaming, fatal climax with their test.
Students are dreamers; when the class begins
They think of sunny fields, starry nights, and rest.

I see them in dusty classrooms, gnawed by fatigue,
And outside the headmasters' offices, lashed with the shame.
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
school-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And sleeping in during the rain.

-Me