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I was a soldier
I use to melt the green army men
I stored my GI Joes in a shoebox
I played with fake toy guns
I was pushing tin
I climbed high into the sky
I was a soldier
They pulled my number from a barrel
The whole time I was thinking "Why am I here?"
I heard a ringing in my ear
I saw hallucinations
And realized I was only hallucinating when I thought they weren't real
I was a soldier
I killed without knowing why
Took pride in the truths they tried to hide
I meandered through the realm
The thick green jungle of molten steel
Nothing more than thoughtlessness and denial
I was a soldier
I came home to apposing arms
I sat with barefoot freedom bringers
I smiled while crying under the flesh
They told me it was wrong
And I knew
They were right
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Writer Profile
Stacie Brantley
I recently lost my twenty year old brother in a one vehicle car crash. I have been writing since I was almost eleven, but I suppose with perfect understanding my most recent works have involved the death of my brother and my coping. Sometimes it seems that it is my only way of coping. And sometimes I can not even write anything.
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Comments
I'm sorry Nour Mosawy | Aug 26th, 2004
I'm sorry for your brother....Was he a soldier in Iraq??????
Anyhow...I read your words..and I just wanted you to know I have feelings for you...or can share you.
In peace,
Nour
Salisu Suleiman Salisu Suleiman | Nov 11th, 2004
I can feel your pain. But you must realise that it is by overcoming such pain that we build character and inner strenght. For us in Africa, pain and tragedy and unnecesary death are daily occurences, and yet, lives goes on. Draw stenght from the fountain of pain and sorrow,and i think you'll be a better person.
Ute oduol | Oct 14th, 2008
its really deep and beautiful but sad at the same time.
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