Mark I. Kirkmeyer


He’s had it hard
Mother died to young
Anger is all he knows
Death is embraced
He needs an anchor

The young warrior
Home from a year
Under enemy guns
Unknown and alone
He needs an anchor

Someone to attach to
Someone to remind him
That he’s still alive
Though his heart is stone
He needs an anchor

As he enters Hell
He removes his helmet
Kisses the anchor
Sparks flare, he’s alive
He needs an anchor

He walks through Hell
Ever vigilant; danger everywhere
He can look back to her
To see a better place
He needs an anchor.