|
Patrotism, still running high,
The doves, Against the war,
That's their right,
Are still organized.
Our love ones,
Are beginning to slowly
Trickle back home,
In mournful sorrow.
Returning,
In flagged draped,
Metal casket,
Now And Tomorrow.
With full Military Honors,
They Are Presented,
Back to us,
So we may pay, our final respect.
With painful tears,
Lingering in our eyes,
I weep,
But I dont't have, a shoulder to cry on
Mine were the comfort,
To others,
In my younger, worrier days,
Now my tears, just run down my face.
I show no shame, for tears I shed,
If they are not realeased,
My heart will break,
But I don't have, a shoulder to cry on.
By: William Bonilla
3/24/03
|
Great and superior write.
Thank you,
Susan
Reindeer
Said I wasn't going to read any more war poems, but glad I stopped by for this one.
~E
Very powerful piece indeed.
enjoyed!
yf
Jack
~erica
Cry all you want.
Excellent write,
my friend.