I still watch
I laid on the ground next to a head,
comrade was laying next to me dead.
The bullet missed me by an inches length,
surviving with adrenalines strength.
Using his body to protect my spot,
propped my gun on him for my shots.
Everywhere the dirt it jumped and flew,
not an inch I could give for their view.
It would take just one mistake,
and my life with his they would take.
Stressfully I survived the attack,
today my mind still takes me back.
Often, I stare at my hands palm,
trying to focus and remain calm.
Take my vision from my minds head,
I still see his face, pale and dead.
Hear the bullets hitting by my side
I still watch my comrade die.
- Author: Maplespal (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 9th, 2024 07:01
- Comment from author about the poem: Sorry just feeling out a possible book on P.T.S.D. Giving bits of a story.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 11
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