WAR (P.T.S.)

WAR (P.T.S.)

WAR(P.T.S)

POST TRAUMATIC STRESS

Twisted and crooked.
Broken and sore.
A shell of a man,
I lay on the floor.

Once a young man,
with my whole life to come.
I became a soldier.
They handed me a gun.

War was a word
that was never said
When kids were told stories,
when going to bed.

To travel the world,
with like minded men.
Not to destroy
but restore peace in the end.

The gun that I carried,
I did not intend to use.
When I heard all the gun fire,
I just could not refuse.

I look to my left.
Took my eye of the ball,
just a split second..
I see my young comrade fall.

I rush to his side
to offer some aid.
The bullets continue,
I’m really afraid.

I swaddle him closer.
I get down on my knees.
I pray to my lord,
for the bullets to cease.

Then a deafening silence!
Its eerie…..I’m scared.
My body feels rigid.
I feel like I’m caged.

Then I hear a familiar voice,
of a comrade in arms.
He says “ Come on Joe.”
“Here give me your arm”

I am still holding this young soldier,
close to my chest.
I hear a voice say “He’s dead Joe!”
“We all did our best”

One tour of duty
I can’t do no more
Twisted and broken
I lay on the floor.

They say you can travel the world
and see such wonderful places.
Well all I can see are……
my dead comrades………..their faces!

Twisted and crooked.
Broken and sore.
A shell of a man,
I lay on the floor.

Written by Jerri42
©All rights reserved

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About jerri42

I Have filled in some information on the about the writer page. Any suggestions for my website or poems subjects please leave a message and i will consider them all
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2 Responses to WAR (P.T.S.)

  1. awomansaved says:

    Powerful!!!

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