Blue and Gray

We face each other.  Each day the distance between us grows shorter
Sweat and fear drips down my face.
Another day surrounded by the stench of spent powder and death
To my left, caissons move the cannon into place
Made ready to do today's bidding, silencing life at random

I count my rifle balls, each designed to kill my brothers
Like me, struggling to survive another day, mired in despair
Why did it come to this, the hate, the destruction, the finality
We are but men.  We fight, we bleed, we weep
Freedom the cause, all men created equal. Die so we shall live

I try to swallow my terror.  I am not alone. You can smell it
We are not born to war. We are not brave.  We are simply driven
I've seen too much.  Fingers of death ripping us apart
Fragments of lives left strewn across so many fields
Yet I live.  Am I the lucky one, or are they who no longer hear the cannon

A small boy, hollow eyes, old beyond his years, stands with his drum
Every beat calls another soldier to the field. steady, like a dirge
I'm so tired, my body and my mind both broken
Will I see another sunset, or will my war end today
Which brothers will I join come tomorrow.  .   

11/15/2011
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Brown Avatar
November 18, 2011 at 9:58 AM
Life has its battles. Sad but meaningful
Quigley Avatar
November 18, 2011 at 10:24 AM
So true Earle. Thanks for stopping by.
Okwudili Avatar
November 16, 2011 at 4:39 AM
Beautiful verse. I love free-verse, you know, because it leaves you free to styles and metres. Thanks for appreciating my winning entry.
Quigley Avatar
November 16, 2011 at 6:44 AM
Thanks for your comments Nebeolisa
Wesley Avatar
November 15, 2011 at 2:22 PM
You must have been through it Bob or you couldn't have written such an emotional verse. How does a person build up enough hate to kill someone he doesn't know? YOur poem asks that question with such sensitivity.
Quigley Avatar
November 15, 2011 at 2:29 PM
Thank you Elizabeth. Your comments are very much appreciated.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace