With a gun in my hand and my team on the way,
I take my shot, sealing my fate.
I'm a soldier; this is my play—
Take the shot, take it day by day.
In this life of mine, there's no choice,
It's pain, a burden, yet still my voice.
I should be thankful, not all are blessed like me,
But I can’t silence the bratty kid inside me.
Complaining and whining, it's a strain,
I’m shot and bleeding, weary of the pain.
I say I’m fine, I’m good, but it’s all a bluff,
The bandage can only do so much.
Bleeding out, losing sense,
The battlefield is where they say I belong.
So strong, they see me,
But it’s all a pretense.
I want to cry, I want to fight,
To be someone else, to take flight.
Yet it’s a pain, a constant game,
The bratty kid wins, it's all the same.
Shot and dying, this is me,
A soldier's life, a bitter decree.
A soldier’s truth, a soldier’s lie,
In this battle, I silently cry.
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Author:
Violet_Writes (
Offline) - Published: July 30th, 2025 08:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Priya Tomar
Offline)
Comments3
A highly idealized view .Killing or being killed does not require emotions .
A soldier not an easy role. Kill or be killed. High risk, suffering pain part of the job. A good write
When I first read this I thought that of a soldier's life and choices they have to make, then I read it again and I thought it was of someone not in the military but a soldier in life, struggling to find their way, interesting and nicely expressed write
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