- Non-Erotic Poetry
- No Title Needed
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I talked to a friend yesterday
I was checking her out
she told her me her son's coming home from the war
in Baghdad right now
he told her,
"I don't know why we're here, Mom.
We used to be able to hang with the civilians,
now we can't even let them approach us...
we don't know who the enemy is."
She said he visited for Christmas...
he wept the whole ride home
he said his convoy got hit
when the door of his truck was opened
an arm fell out
the guy was still alive
his friend was shot
he had to plug the wounds
with his fingers
until the medics came
he doesn't know if he lived
my friend's son just turned twenty
he was eighteen when he got there...
He still thinks most of the people are good...
- COMMENTS
Epmd607almost 17 years agobecause it's about something real, even with your description of plugging wounds with fingers--we'll chalk that up to poetic license I guess.
