Nancy L. Meek

LACKING RHYME AND REASON

This can’t be real…
dead bro beside me lying;
the helplessness I feel,
the bombs, the blood, the crying.

Deathbed pleas to God
escaped my buddy’s lips,
now silenced by the bombs
as into death he slips.

Numbed, I cannot scream,
I cannot breathe… I cannot die!
God, I must be dreaming…
Grown men do not cry.

Dad, I promised not to.
I’ll make you proud… You’ll see
I’ll make it through… I got to…
OH NO!! DON’T SHOOT!! … OH GOD!!