A Battle through the Eyes of a Drummer Boy

I awoke to the sound of gunshots
Loud and popping like the sound of wood crackling in a fire.
I quickly put on my uniform,
Grabbed my drum and sticks and walked out the tent,
And looked around all I could see was smoke.
It was like a toxic fog and it smelt of
Gun powder,
Burning cloth,
And death.
The sounds of screams and gun shots made it feel
Like I was in a nightmare.
All I could feel was fear.
As I listen I could hear the drum beats of the others.
The beats told us to retreat.
I saw all the bodies,
Cold and stiff on the ground.
I saw faces I knew and faces that were unknown.
As I marched,
Gunshots came whistling past my ear.
I dropped my sticks and ran.
Another bullet came and shot through
My drum knocking me to the ground,
As the men of the confederate came running by
I just laid there frozen till they left.
I took off my drum and ran to the nearest
Mill and hid from this nightmare,
For a week I couldn’t sleep ‘cause the smells,
The sight,
And the screams
Haunted me.
I wondered why my father wanted me to go.
I wasn’t ready to face death,
But is anyone truly ready for that?
I awoke the next day from the sound of birds chirping.
As they got along with there lives,
I thought to myself that
I should do the same.
I put on my uniform and was ready for battles ahead





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