When I was seventeen,
They told me I must go to war
For country and for King.
Forget the sixth commandment
As many others will,
Take this gun and bayonet
See how many you can kill.
.
I was fighting early morning
With the moon still in the sky,
Bayoneting the enemy
Praying not to die.
I was seeing comrades falling
Parts of bodies shot away,
And wandered if I want to live
To kill another day.
.
We made our camp that evening
Said prayers for those who died,
The preacher reassured us
That God was on our side.
I told him of the carnage
Asked what the Lord would say,
He said, “You just be thankful
You can kill another day.”
.
Three years I’ve been killing
Lost count of all who’ve died.
I’ve lost belief that there’s a God,
At least not on our side.
If he’s with the enemy
Then all that I can say,
He will also have to answer
For his sins on judgment day.
2 comments:
You paint a vivid picture of war and the way a person goes from feeling like a normal human being to feeling numb and nothing but anger. Beauiful job, compelling and heart wrenching at the same time. Alan as always, you words are honest true and intense. I hope I have been learning from you. We will see...I posted a little poetry. Not as good as yours of that I'm sure...but thank you for all that you have taught me so far. I can't wait for more!!! hugs...Joann
You paint a picture of war that made me feel the pain of each and every person that ever defended that ever went to war.... Bravo
Post a Comment