Letter Home From Hell
I'm writing to you at last
from some distant war-torn land.
You could say the weather was good -
the sky is always bright these days -
if only people's faces were the same.
Haven't had time to do much yet;
But yesterday I did stay alive.
That was really great -
I'm hoping to do it again tomorrow,
but I may not get round to it.
At least I'm making new friends here;
there are hundreds of people on our street
although they don't do much these days.
I'm meeting my mates in the graveyard -
they won't keep me waiting long.
I can't say much for the food, though;
dust and humble pie appear to be
the national speciality, but I think
they're a taste you acquire
after living here for a while.
I may not write again for a bit -
looks like things could be rather busy.
But I'm thinking of you all;
and more than ever before
I hope I'll see you again...