David Dowling Poet Free verse

Wounded Warrior

For the torn,
for the meek.
Toward the storm,
toward the beast.

For the scorned,
for the weak.
Wounded warriors,
for the free.

In the dirt,
make my bed.
Firefight,
overhead.

Live on hope,
consume hate.
Rusted spoon,
rusted plate.

On this stage,
in my role.
Home one day,
never whole.

For this goal,
in the name.
Different soul,
though the same.

Take my life,
use it well.
Build your heaven,
on my hell.

Don't you cry,
I'll always be.
Wounded warrior,
for the free.

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Destiny Budd March 29, 2010 at 1:53 PM I absolutely love this. It's perfect. And I do agree with Shelli, that 7th stanza had the best blow to it but it's great the way it is.

Shelli Mcclaran March 28, 2010 at 10:42 PM nicely done. i particularly like the 7th stanza, and would almost suggest you end it there, instead of adding that last bit. has more punch that way. but either way, i like it. :)