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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · War · #1842981
I could only imagine how brother and sisters feel when they see one of their own fall.
He Was My Best Friend I

I watched his death,
I held him as he took his last breath;
I seen his eyes close,
I wish I was the one God chose.

I carry him to high ground,
Everyone’s smile turns to a frown;
I can’t let go,
I feel anger starting to grow.

I stand to my feet,
My bullet is what the enemy will meet;
This emotional battle will be won,
I lean down and grab my gun.

With my eyes wide,
I walk with a deadly stride;
This fight will not end as a tie,
My trigger finger is not shy.

Bullets begin to fly by my head,
My bullets are what the enemies will be fed;
Anger takes over my mind,
The enemy is who I want to find.

After the bullets come to stop,
I become weak and drop;
I will never forget that day,
When his soul flew away.
         
Clayton Williams
2/18/11
© Copyright 2012 Clayton Williams (cpwilliams08 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1842981-He-Was-My-Best-Friend