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Samantha Friedrichs Poem
Long flowing locks,
Lap covered in moss,
Is little Willow.
Slender and graceful,
Yet tall and strong.
Is little Willow.
Long ago tragedy struck,
An accident most foul.
A stormy night,
Saw lovers part,
The river was the villain.
The Lovely little Willow,
Did try with all her might,
To keep her lovers hand in hand,
But lost her lonely fight.
Now Willow sits alone,
Beside the once raging torrent.
Remembering the stormy night,
Never to be forgotten.
Copyright © Samantha Friedrichs | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Samantha Friedrichs Poem
My head was covered with jewels sweat and mud,
Bodies lay strewn before me,
Creating a barrier and a challenge.
Climb, climb says a voice in my head,
Or accept the fate of those who lay before you.
I hear the whistling and the dull thud of another shell hitting the ground.
I take a breath and with every ounce of energy,
I scramble over men, men that fought beside me, and against me.
When I reach the other side, I fall down,
Not dead or wounded, but overwhelmed,
Overwhelmed by the challenges that lay before and behind me
The thought that, I might not make it home,
The terror of never smiling, or seeing anyone smile again.
Who knew a war could do so much,
Turn the live into dead and the young into old and tear the world apart.
I came here wanting to go to war, feeling excited to fight, feeling it my duty,
I shall leave here either broken or dead.
But I need to make it back,
For if I lay here, all these feelings won’t just be in my head,
They will be real,
And will be dead.
Copyright © Samantha Friedrichs | Year Posted 2007
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