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The Forgotten
April 17, 2009
across the field
a mist a float
i see my dead comrades
alift and afoat
they whisper something
but i cannot hear
for the others appear
i pickup my rifle and shiver with fear
the thought of taking another
a dreadful tear
i see him tremble
but neither of us stop
the time has come for us to decide
who will remain when one confides
i see him crying now
as i look on
he curls into a ball
and i see the child
who was there all the while
he was no different than I
a soldier
a young man
a child forced to grow to fast
and now alast
remains the past
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