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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · War · #2029184
Based on a personal experience of a very close friend of mine.
The soldier stood in the field alone
The stench of iron filled the air
Their bodies lie there, so clearly shown
To look down though, he would not dare

         A hole in heart heart,
         A wound on his wrist.
         He was falling apart,
         But he couldn't resist.

He cast his dark eyes down to the ground
Just to see the friends he had lost
His broken cries were the only sound
That bridge, he wished had stayed uncrossed

         To far to turn back
         For those gone: so brave.
         He felt his heart crack
         For those he can't save.

Another man survived the lost fight
But didn't leave completely whole
He blamed the soldier with all his might
Who took two scars: to hand and soul

         The shots still ring out
         Deep down in this mind.
         To him, there's no doubt
         They deserved more time.

The soldier's been plagued since then with guilt
He's blamed himself for all these years
Though t'wasn't his fault their blood was spilt
He writhes at night, wakes up in tears.

-M. Fletcher
Written for a friend
© Copyright 2015 M. Fletcher (life_is_music at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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