PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

      She's waiting at the door.

      Sometimes she sits on the floor.

      Sometimes she reads a book.

      She, out the door, sometimes takes a look.



      A soldier's wife.



      She's been there days and days.

      She can't get out of this maze.

      She knows over soon will be his Iraq story.

      It's been a long war; she knows not what it's for.

      A long time gone, a long time until the dawn.



      A soldier's wife.



      She's all alone, without him, cold to the bone.

      Sometimes a night, a moan.

      She looks at the stars and the moon.

      She thinks he is how far away?  

      She hopes he will be home soon.

      When she looks at the sky, sometimes she cries.

      Is it true that he's looking at it too?



      A soldier's wife.

      

      Over and over his letters she does read.

      Sometimes, there is a phone call.  

      Sometimes, an email.

      Time seems to move slow as a snail.

      She thinks this mission is going to fail.



      A soldier's wife.



      She sees the reports on CNN.

      She knows he will be home, but when.

      Nobody seems to know what the war is about.

      A growing shout for troops to be home.

      Nobody wants to be alone.

    She cries and asks why.  To understand the war, she tries.

      Nobody seems to know, where the war is going to go.

  

      A soldier's wife.



      She knows he will be home soon.

      She knows the government act of deceive.

      She refuses to believe.

      He died a few days before.

      They came to her home, knocked on the door.

      "We regret to inform you."  

      It can't possibly be true.

      Now, she's all alone.      



      A soldier's wife.



      She sits on the floor.

      Sometimes, she reads a book.

      Sometimes, out the window she takes a look.

      She's waiting at the door.

    

      She's a soldiers wife.

      She's a soldier's wife.