Category: Writers Block
Unknown Soldier
3-12-09
Unknown soldier
I saw you on the bus yesterday
and though I don't know your name
and I never saw your face
I can tell your story.
You are so young
with your deep steady eyes of 18-year innocence
and the firm set of your fair jaw
as you walk past me
without a glance down to my own unwary face
up to the driver
to inquire about your stop
the end of the line on your trip to hell.
I bleed for you soldier
as you stand there in your clean army greens
pressed crisp and neat by your weeping mother
while she rambles on aboutGod awful stories
that you'll never be a part of
horrors and violance you'll never see.
Because you're the bravest soldier
and your voice resonates with mountains of resolve.
And when that burning sun beats down
singeing the hair right off your head
and you're breathing in sand with every breath you take
and all your pathettic meals are coated in dirt
you won't go hide in your tent and cry.
You'll write so many letters
your pen scratching out inky lies while the uneasy night wares on
your strong body tense
waiting for that shot to shatter the fragile silence
and pierce a hole in your gray canvas tent
missing your shaved head byan inch.
Welcome to the battlefield soldier.
And all the drooling masses back home
slobber over their fast food and tv
like it's all some kind of fucking dream,
like they're lying in their beds asleep
cuddled up to their rebble flags and "Jesus loves me."
While in a desert somewhere a cross is burning.
And before you know it
all that green will turn to red
splattered Christmas colors across your pasty skin
and your hardened gaze will stare down the enemy
a faceless shadow standing in the Afghanastan day
and you'll lift that fire-breathing dragon into the air,
light gleaming off it's metal neck.
And those fingers which once held a cell phone,
that hand which touched it's mother's cheek
will pull the trigger and murder a man America hates
though no one knows his name
and we've never seen his face,
we applaud you just the same.
Goodbye unknown soldier.
When you fall to the dry screaming Earth in a volley of friendly fire
no one will remember you
and the masses will keep on beying for blood
and the years will pass in cruel decay.
But who will write your name in my child's history book?
Who will stand by you to hear your last pleading whispers?
I'll miss you unknown soldier.
Good luck.
Wow! That was amazing...
This is a wonderful poem. So full of truth. Unfortunate.
Oh my goodness this is wonderful.
'And all the drooling masses back home
slobber over their fast food and tv
like it's all some kind of fucking dream,
like they're lying in their beds asleep
cuddled up to their rebble flags and "Jesus loves me."
While in a desert somewhere a cross is burning.'
That gave me an actual chill. Perfect. And:
'And those fingers which once held a cell phone,
that hand which touched it's mother's cheek
will pull the trigger and murder a man America hates
though no one knows his name
and we've never seen his face,
we applaud you just the same.'
Lovelove. Seriously it's amazing.
Agreed completely. Excelent.
Cala, an incredible peice of writing, It leaves me not knowing quite how to express how I feel, except to say thank you for sharing, it's an honour to read.
Wow. That's really awesome. It's so sad, and yet true. I love it.
Damn! That was amazing! I felt as though I were there. Good job!