coming and going
like a private plumbing system
yes, i'm a private.
or was it a sergeant?
does it matter?
bed-ridden as i am?
what good are my medals if i have no eyes?
what good are my weapons if i have no arms?
what good are my boots if i have no feet?
i've done my share
the president wanted to shake my hand
-alas...
a hero he said
a man among men
i've got a plaque on a wall
i'll never see it
so helpless
why, if you'd drop me in the mud
i'd wriggle and squirm like some sort of insect
and crawl back to that field where i lost
my limbs and my brothers
who went out on a limb
for scum like me
i'm so sorry
4 comments:
I find your poems really touching and an insightful look into your life. your really quiet good at it you know. i think you should keep at it. i'll pray for you.
don't pray for me, for i am filth.
pray for the souls that died in my stead.
saints to the last man.
teacher said something today that reminded me of this poem. just fyi (that means I thought of your poem which means I thought of you, if only momentarily- feel touched.)
awww.
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