Post by 1fanofcharmed on Nov 29, 2009 15:20:38 GMT -5
I fought. I lived. I'm a survivor.
Even though I can't say the same for others.
I saw friends die, and others killed.
On the days of battle,
Where blood was pooled.
So here is my story,
Please listen well.
This is the War of the World.
I'm an American,
I'd gone from war to war.
I had thought to hide many times,
To go back to my family,
To go back with my wife:
I had sought to fight another again.
But with the way things were going,
No doubt the chances were coming.
And indeed they did.
As I was drafted against my will,
I kissed and cried,
And said goodbye,
To the ones I loved.
Hoping to survive.
A teardrop is running down my cheek,
When I think of what my son did for me.
As I got on the plane back to the USA,
And landed a town away from my family.
I had learned he had passed away.
So this is for you,
My solider son:
You see why I didn't want you to join this one.
By Briauna Zimmer
I wrote this poem for history class.
Even though I can't say the same for others.
I saw friends die, and others killed.
On the days of battle,
Where blood was pooled.
So here is my story,
Please listen well.
This is the War of the World.
I'm an American,
I'd gone from war to war.
I had thought to hide many times,
To go back to my family,
To go back with my wife:
I had sought to fight another again.
But with the way things were going,
No doubt the chances were coming.
And indeed they did.
As I was drafted against my will,
I kissed and cried,
And said goodbye,
To the ones I loved.
Hoping to survive.
A teardrop is running down my cheek,
When I think of what my son did for me.
As I got on the plane back to the USA,
And landed a town away from my family.
I had learned he had passed away.
So this is for you,
My solider son:
You see why I didn't want you to join this one.
By Briauna Zimmer
I wrote this poem for history class.
