The Bed Made From a Hole In Sand

If we get a few minutes of relief from open fire
To my bed of sand I'll retire

Bullets whizzing over our heads
Makes the safety of the sand bed not a dread

Needing a bath and fresh clean clothes
Well we won't get these today we suppose

Our comrade was killed by mortar fire today
We wept as dying in my arms he lay

Silence is golden so they say
But silence can be scary as hell, where we stay

But this is just one more day
Hoping we live to get away

To home

(Inspired by photos sent to me in an email from a friend.  The photo showed soldiers 
surrounded by army trucks, jeeps, and tanks in the middle they had dug out beds in the sand.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Lopez Avatar
September 16, 2009 at 8:41 PM
we dont know what our troops go through and this is a good reminder .....a great tribute!
Tanaskow Avatar
September 16, 2009 at 4:17 AM
they must have felt like they had dug there own graves. /really it more i don't care. put a label on it because some one figured out that, one way of writing sound good. and decided to name it.
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