In response to "Uncle Ernest" by Alan Sillitoe
The Soldier
Everyday he would just sit there,
Empty void filling his eyes.
Broken and bound to his cold chair
He could not forget their cries.
Mines, bombs, fire and smoke
As far as the eye can see.
Nobody telling a joke
In the trenches of this bloody sea.
Yet now he is alone.
For everybody cares only for their own.
After the war, peace was brought
Or so everybody thought.
Everyday he would just sit there,
Left out of this joyful new life.
Broken and bound to his cold chair
He wondered if he was still alive.
Yet he knows but one thing,
He could not forget their cries.
Written by Ben Schreiner aka Rahjas.
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3 comments:
Ben, this was a really good poem. Your vocabulary is great! It is a "sorrow" in this poem which makes it so true. Good work :-)
Excellent work here, young Skywalker. You are clearly in possession of the force!
I love this poem! It shows that you are a great writer and you should keep writing in the future. Well done!
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