Walking Soldier

by | Apr 18, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

He walks, he talks, he sleeps –
he fights.
but he does not get a chance to feel the rain
in the summer, or watch a flower bloom
under the sun.
the moon is nothing new to him, it’s surface full of hired light.
he’s only got borrowed time
to be a boy
to be a father
to be a man.
Because he knows what he must do –
that he must suffer –
so that he can help the world.

He wants to make a difference.
And he will.

There’s nothing like a young man’s determination.
His self-will pushes him to carry on,
even though he’s part ghost.
it’s tiring, sad
a tragedy
to see a bright spirit battling so hard
to overcome
what cannot be overcome.
but it’s admirable,
pleasing, respectable and worthy
because he’s trying to make a change.

I wouldn’t have the strength
or half the soul that he must possess.
I wouldn’t have the courage
or the ability to move forward.
I wouldn’t know how to react,
how to defend.

Two shots, a bang –
it’s started.
Confusion, array –
a mess.
Blood, noise –
a travesty.

A Pause. A Silence.

And this is what I do know – that we both are
driven by love.


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