Weak,
Trembling behind the wall
unable to conquer his fears.
A coward, in short.

Returning to his fellow fighters
Knowing he has not
Shot a single enemy,
Fired a single bullet.
Was he brave to do that?

Wondering if,
Had he the courage to stand up straight,
To step out into the field of battle
And say no,
He could have made himself a different sort
Of hero.

But now he will never know.
Because he trembled behind a wall
Instead of striding forward
In spite of what lay ahead.

Because he did not go down fighting,
In a patriotic flash of light,
But nor did he speak against the war
The fighting and the death.

They say ignorance is bliss
And he thinks he might agree.
To not have seen the agony, the pain
That swirl in the air,
That have been gathering for months now
That seems to be here to stay,
Would be blessing indeed.


But,
What if he is wrong?