“What are you running from son?”
Saliva forming white chunks
Bubbling on his lips
“Nothing Drill Sergeant” I yelled
My words devoid of life
“Everything”, my brain registered
“Ten more you worthless pieces of shit”
He grunted indiscriminately at all of us
All of us saying the same thing
Thinking very separate thoughts
Challenges like mile markers
Between us and the past
As we push closer to the
Open arms of the reaper
A future we embraced and desire
A point on the path, of our choosing
Farthest from what we were
-
Author:
TrystanBehm (
Offline) - Published: November 28th, 2018 07:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments2
Trys,
When we choose our own path, we have to be ready and willing to accept all that we encounter along the way! The onus is on us!
This was a fine write...open-ended interpretation...the quality of an excellent writer!
~Laura~
That path we travel may have many obstacles but every time we overcome them our live get stronger and happier.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.