I met a soldier one day,
he was confused and bleeding,
his clothes dirty and blackened;
but he moved with sufferable grace--
something only a soldier has,
and his eyes pleaded for life.
I came to know this soldier,
I found he was only a boy--
one forced to fight.
He became by best friend,
and when he could walk again,
we were inseperable.
It was a mirical he lived--
even more the fact he could walk....
So when he ended up in pain,
grimacing on the floor,
it shouldn't had hit so hard,
to know he wasn't going to make it this time.
August was so charming;
September, however, wasn't.
A contest entry
- Snapshots by Floorboards.
600 points, ended May 14, 2008, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Why so far away? by MalevolentDesire.
400 points, ended May 15, 2008, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
can anybody relate?
Comments
-
Not a bad effort here, like what you're endeavouring to do, very sincere, good ending to the piece.
Thanks a lot for entering my contest and good luck to you,
Floorboards.
Adding your comment:
