Long shadows cast on the cold, paved road
as he walked with a limp seeking out some respite,
some warm place to stay, to lay down his load,
if only this evening; if only tonight.
With an emblem-- a flag-- his only real mark,
and a long-unwashed uniform all he would wear,
he trudged into town, found a bench in the park,
then spread out a blanket to lay down there.
As night fell on the park whilst white snowfall began,
he shuddered and curled up a little bit more.
He imagined his bench to be a divan;
the park was an ever-so-pleasant seashore.
He looked up at the sky as fell down the cold flakes,
and he heard distant drums, the report of a gun.
He felt the ground tremble and all the earth quake,
witnessed all the destruction when finally 'twas done.
He cried silent tears as the sounds did subside,
then shivered and huddled his blankets once more.
Not one of his tears did he e'en try to hide,
as he fell into sleep with nightmares of war.
Soon morning arrived and the clouds disappeared,
a crowd was now gathered 'round his long-stiffened form.
Not one of them noticed his long-frozen tears,
or the dogtags still clenched in his hand, once warm.
The world still goes on without missing a beat;
his body has long since been removed.
No one remembers; they keep it discrete--
the death of a man whose country he loved.
-D.B.
as he walked with a limp seeking out some respite,
some warm place to stay, to lay down his load,
if only this evening; if only tonight.
With an emblem-- a flag-- his only real mark,
and a long-unwashed uniform all he would wear,
he trudged into town, found a bench in the park,
then spread out a blanket to lay down there.
As night fell on the park whilst white snowfall began,
he shuddered and curled up a little bit more.
He imagined his bench to be a divan;
the park was an ever-so-pleasant seashore.
He looked up at the sky as fell down the cold flakes,
and he heard distant drums, the report of a gun.
He felt the ground tremble and all the earth quake,
witnessed all the destruction when finally 'twas done.
He cried silent tears as the sounds did subside,
then shivered and huddled his blankets once more.
Not one of his tears did he e'en try to hide,
as he fell into sleep with nightmares of war.
Soon morning arrived and the clouds disappeared,
a crowd was now gathered 'round his long-stiffened form.
Not one of them noticed his long-frozen tears,
or the dogtags still clenched in his hand, once warm.
The world still goes on without missing a beat;
his body has long since been removed.
No one remembers; they keep it discrete--
the death of a man whose country he loved.
-D.B.
Author notes
Erm, I really don't have much to say about this one, except that this is a belated Veteran's Day poem, I suppose. I abhor the fact that far too many of this country's homeless are veterans. However you feel about war or anything of the sort, they are human beings who deserve a home.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
*sniffs* This is amazing, poet. The emotion and the loneliness you have captured so well. . . well done, I must say, and very touching. . .


-
hi dan,
you probably don't remember me, but i just starting coming back on here again. you're poems are still amazing, actually they've matured alot
Merry Christmas
~L

-
Hey Dan
You didn't tell me you write poetry!LOL And pretty good poetry as well!
I like stories in poetry, and this is exceptional.
I know you wrote this for Veteran's Day but it is an ongoing problem that needs be addressed all the time. I wish this could have a greater audience than me here at AP!
Nice going!
John



