PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There was one lonely soldier.
In bright orange he walked down the aisle,
All the while,
Having a flash back of the blood that covered the ground for a mile.

He saw her face sketched in with it all,
Meanwhile, onto his knees he did fall.
He remember the carnage through which he had to crawl,
But in the mud, all he could see his baby girls rag doll.

He made it home through battle,
Back to the farm, with all the cattle.
The hoofs beat on the plains and the ground seemed rattle.
And he saw her face, as she sat up there in the saddle.

He made it home through the war,
And couldn't wait to see what their future held in store.
But nothing could prepare him for when a man stabbed her 32 times or more.
And when he shook the baby till she cried no more. . .

Her screams echoed in his ears,
As he woke up in her blood realizing his worst fears...
They took him away; eyes flooded with tears,
The future only holding a cell with brick walls for the rest of his years.