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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Military · #1101434
Written, just because - a free verse on the pain of war


The first shot fired in any war
goes straight into the heart
of somebody's mother.

The first shot hit my leg,
the pain unbearable, a shock
to my belief -
I felt invincible before.

Somebody's son, a medic,
bandaged my wound,
then turned to help
another who had taken
his first shot.

I had trained for
situations such as this;
war was ugly, even before
I felt the first shot
tear into me.

Somebody's son lay dying,
his first shot came
unexpected, his eyes staring
skyward, bloody and cold.

I joined the others
at the front line again,
aiming with deliberate ease
at somebody's son.
Kill or be killed.
War is hell.

Somebody's son comes home
in a flag-draped casket,
somebody's mother
doesn't understand why.

I know that freedom isn't free,
death is the high price
we have to pay for liberty -
and somebody's son tonight
fights for that day of peace,
when it is finished.


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