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Poem for a friend that Died in the War.
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Sitting in the First car of the Line. Looking out the Window to the people passing by. Some bow their Heads Others Just go right on by. My mind drifts back a scene from long ago. At least it seems a long time ago. Standing in the Living room. Your pacing around. I’m watching the TV. Seeing the Buildings fall to the ground. You sit beside me, and grab my hand. Trying so hard not to Scream and cry. We both Know that your mom was inside. Sixteen hours later we’re still awake. Your still pacing, I’m still Praying. The Phone rang and you Jumped so high. I had to Laugh. Just a little sound, to cover the Fear deep inside. You Fell to your knees, I Rushed to your side Your Mom was fine. She’s alive. Just a slight bump on the head But so many others were dead. You Screamed and cried then dried your eyes And watched the TV and again saw the Buildings Fall Heard the screams for those that were trapped inside. You said this wasn’t it. No way it was over. I looked at you and Knew what you do. Your mom came home we laughed and cried. You went to your room. I followed you inside. I saw you pick up your paintbrush Saw you pick the colors and make the first stroke. Hours you painted all your fears and scares. The canves took a life of its own. Then you put down the paintbrush and picked up the little flag. I knew what you were thinking and I knew what you do. High school went back to as normal as it could. You painted as always but no longer were they the landscapes of before. Now they took on the grays of your fears the reds of your anger. And the Navy Blue of your spirit . Your country called, you put down the paintbrush and picked up the Flag. And now Your coming home. To be put to rest. The world has lost another bright soul, time for you to join the rest. But no one knows just how bright, and no one knows just how much a loss it is. To some you were just a solider, fighting an endless war. To some you were a Jarhead just following orders But to me and those that knew you. You were, a Daughter of a single mother who loved you more then life, a Friend that was almost a sister. You were a Painter who put down the paintbrush and picked up The flag. Rest In Peace “ NicNak” Now you have all the colors of the world to paint with. I’ll Catch you on the Bright Side My Friend. |