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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · War · #1331398
Poem from the war zone. PART ONE~the poem
It’s getting harder to say
In the end, who’s the winner
And as the years crawl by
The line keeps getting thinner.
So hold on to your helmet
And whisper your prayers
While the man running towards you
Shouts his through the air.
His next life gets better,
With a blast, this one ends,
Now he hopes to invite you
And a few of your friends
And he’s got a lot more
Of nothing to lose
The younger the virgins
The shorter the fuse

It’s getting harder to tell
The debris from the bodies
The blast can be heard
From Baghdad up to Taji
Do you tackle the man
With the bomb on his chest
Or do you run ‘cause you know
That your bullet proof vest
Won’t protect you from flames
Or the devil’s own eye
Or a dynamite case of
Self-righteous suicide.
For all of their honor,
Their praises resound
But the war’s truest heroes
Must be scraped off the ground

It’s getting harder to see
Through the thick consequences
And the blood-stained glass
Shows a crimson reflection
And when it stares back
At you, what do you see?
A hero, a coward,
A martyr-to-be?
You’ve learned more of death
Than life taught you before
‘Cause there’s only two ways
To interpret a war:
The past through the pages,
The now through a mirror.
Either way things are worse
Than they tend to appear.
© Copyright 2007 Backlit Saturn (backlitsaturn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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