Brother next to me,
gun loaded
and ready to fire.
Gunshots heard
everywhere.
Desperate to make our country
proud.
To make our family
proud.
To make our friends
proud.
Until the last second of his life,
gone from a single sliver of metal.
Piercing his stomach,
the grenade
stealing his life
instantly.
I get blown back with him,
too stunned to realize anything
at the moment.
When the silence comes,
it is immediately covered by
soldiers
comforting their
partners.
And there I am left,
on the edge of the battleground
staring at my brother,
holding his hand,
waiting for a medic to take him
away.
Because I
know
that he is gone
forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So as you can tell, my poetry has no form. But the next one will be.
I am going to update every day.
Next chapter...
~Olympusaddict
YOU ARE READING
Darkest Times
PoetryYou might not have a difficult life, but millions of others do. They might seem like they're alone, but they're not. The darkest times of our lives are the ones that will stay with us forever.
