I Tried My Best
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I originally wrote this poem when a Russian rocket hit the small town of Hroza, Ukraine killing 51 men, women, and children. Since then, the Hamas terrorist group invaded Israel. I therefore changed the perspective from singular to plural with a few word changes. This poem reflects my emotional struggle with these insane wars and all the joy that has been lost because of them.
“I Tried My Best”
At your request
I tried my best
To pen a poem.
I tried to write.
A happy poem
Full of hope, trust, and tranquility,
But Anger came knocking,
Came knocking at my door.
Let me in he cried.
Please let me in!
I beg of you.
This winter storm is harsh,
I’m afraid I’ll die.
Please let me in!
Am I a fool to let him in?
Let him in to steal my pen?
Let him in to tarnish my soul?
Let him in to write of sin?
I know not where to begin.
Should I relent
And let him in?
Wars that will not end.
Villages gone.
Men, women, and children
Lying in the streets,
Covered in bloodied sheets.
I care not to write of this.
Anger came knocking.
Came knocking at my door.
Should I laugh at those
Who do not care,
Or should I cry
For they know not why,
Why anger came knocking,
Came knocking at my door?
I tried with all my might
To keep the bolt tight.
But anger kept knocking,
Knocking on my door.
The winds blew hard.
I could hear them scream,
Lying in their graves,
And I their souls
Could not save.
Should I let him in?
Should I unbolt the door?
Will it pacify my soul?
Will it bring me peace?
I’m angry,
I’m angry as hell.
I hate these goddamn wars!
If I let him in,
Will he let me out,
When justice is due?
Anger came knocking,
Came knocking at my door.
Copyright © Lon Wartman | Year Posted 2023
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