This poem is about what i think perhaps a soldier might face in the field of war. |
My Gun My friend The army once said My life i cannot spend I must keep it to battle the opposition I must end all fears amd concentrate on my mission. As i sit, in this hole. I wait for the enemy, so i may take his soul. The army says, I must be like death. I come to take away many lives. To have those experience the last breath. I must keep a sharp eye. There is great danger. With this gun I am God. Ready to kill the distant stranger. I see a shadow This is my opportunity. He gets closer. I must show my immunity. I use the scope. I aim for the chest. The shot goes "bang", as i passed the test. I knew i could do it. I knew i was strong. Now to find the enemy, To see nothing went wrong. Here he lays, with his hands over his wound. The buzzards above, waiting to consume. In his other hand, there's a picture of a boy. Maybe it's his son, it matters not his life i must destroy. He speaks to me, in his language i do not understand. Perhaps he prays, as he stretches out his hand. I take my gun, and put a bullet in his head. Now finally, I see his body dead. Another victory for the army. Another life lost to war. What does God think of me? The army says i must think of it no more. by, Rocky |