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Rated: E · Poetry · War · #1375496
Civil War era story of enthusiasm and sadness
The old men cried, 'The enemy's comin!'

So I rushed out and volunteered

My mighty arm would send foes running

And I a lad with scarce a beard!



My training short and insufficient,

I knew not what I must now face

But tales of power, war, and glory

Filled every lad's heart in that place.



Now hear the drums!  Blood-stilling yells!

We run in fear!  Exploding shells!

Such cannon fire and merciless muskets

I drag off my three wounded brothers.



Death in the dark, and now another

Deserted far from our great cause

I only think of my last brother

To get him home, back to our Pa.



I fast approach my body's limits

But my heart's fixed on Tennessee

I must now focus, search for hoofprints

For men who search for scum like me.



I finally arrive at Father's cottage

And shudder under this my load

My brother cries to see my Father

As I resolve to fight no more.

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