A Sense of Honor

Laying and cushioned in the blood stained grass,

I think to myself “is this breath my last?”

It only seemed days ago where I was safe and in my home,

And yet I lay here with only a whisper on my lips,

To tell you of why I decided to enlist:

I was a boy just of age frightened yet eager to engage,

I jumped at my chance to participate at war,

Even to this day I don’t know what for.

I trained and practiced until I was stiff and sore,

But I never understood why they demanded more,

With the strength of our backs and the courage in are hearts,

Nothing we did was ever good enough even from the start,

We were broken and shattered and we still did not matter,

It was not until I was in the actual trenches,

When it came to my absolute senses,

I was one among of thousands of men praying I would soon be home again,

Always seeking a warm embrace but always enduring the fatal chase.

My enemy, my brother, just another, the only difference is our father and mother,

Just a pawn in these very games nothing of value accept our name,

It would be placed in stone among one of the many of rows,

A place were all soldiers and even our enemies would go,

I’m laid low with a riffle clutched to my chest,

Knowing I did my very best,

I am very proud of what I have done; it’s just too bad that I am one of many gone,

As a soldier no words could describe what we felt or saw, it just kept you numb and raw,

But in the end all our hands are stained in red as we lay once more safe but dead,

On this day of remembrance, lest we forget, a day we cherish, and sometimes regret.