I lay still in the heat of it all.
Listening.
Waiting.
Hoping.
The sound of exploding shells still rang in my ears from just moments before.
Gunshots were still audible.
But oh how I hate guns.
They kill and spill.
They harm the innocent and wreak death, confusion and chaos.
I may never see my love again.
I left her carrying all that she is in my heart.
I know that if I die here today, she won't go on.
My poor child of 2 won't grow up with her father.
I lay still in the heat of it all.
Listening.
Waiting.
Hoping.
My family may not even have a body to bury if I die here today in the trenches.
My lover, daughter and parents will feel my fall as though it is their own.
I care not for my own safety or well being, I have only thought for them.
I lay still in the heat of it all.
Listening.
Waiting.
Hoping.
first poem i ever wrote. was for my sister. this was in grade 8.
