The poem
He stood alone in some queer sunless place Where Armageddon ends. Perhaps he longed For days he might have lived; but his young face Gazed forth untroubled: and suddenly there thronged Round him the hulking Germans that I shot When for his death my brooding rage was hot.
He stared at them, half-wondering; and then They told him how I'd killed them for his sake- Those patient, stupid, sullen ghosts of men; And still there seemed no answer he could make. At last he turned and smiled. One took his hand Because his face could make them understand.
how gay pete is
pete is a massive gay and the poem is good