Get Your Premium Membership

Peace March

I used to be a foot soldier in my own civil war. I used to be both a cannon and its fodder. It took a lot of killing to bury that old self, still, on occasions, it struggles to escape an old war grave, its blood-soaked hands reaching upwards to seek out this more tranquil veteran I have become.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things