An old man walks
onto the beach
where the sea still surges
and the wind still stings
just
as it did on that day
he sees the sand
and smells the blood
that stains it
he sees the waves
and hears the men
that drown
he closes his eyes
and remembers
he sits
down
beside the fallen
beside his friends
and thinks
about the madness
at world's end
on that day
he sees the shots
fired
he sees the sands
burst
he sees the men
fall
he sees himself
cursed
to be born to war
blessed
to live to see it end
to come back
to make amends
for that day
when the flags failed and
the men fell
when this place on earth
turned to hell
he turns to the sea
and remembers
he turns to the sea
and weeps
for the soldiers
for the friends
for the families
for those whose memories
we keep
YOU ARE READING
Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
شِعرThis is just a jumble of writing, poetry, self help, rolled into a little thing I'd like to call Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
