An American Nightmare 1919
(a reoccurring nightly terror)
At Versailles the world
found peace, but not
for American soldiers
who look like me. Night
after night, there is no
pause between the beats
of my heart. My tongue doesn’t
fit into my mouth. Sweat
clings to every pore.
All of my body parts
are extremely sore.
I gaze out the window
upon a silhouette in a tree.
I’m the uniform, strange fruit
swaying with the breeze.
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Author:
RL Randall (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2022 16:23
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is a memorial to the veterans that made it through the war, but were simply killed for wearing their uniforms at home.
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 5
Offline)
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