Lavender was dead.
Mary Ann Bell joined the ranks of the missing.
Strunk died somewhere over Chu Lai.
The third day Curt Lemon stepped on a trapped 105 round.
No safe ground, no front or rear
enemies everywhere.
Boom-down, and your were dead
playing catch with Rat
then he was dead.
The Fungal smell of an empty body bag
A slim dead, dainty young man.
No choice Tim, What else could you do?
Men died because of carelessness
and gross stupidity.
The emotional baggage of men who might die
men who died.
When he died it was almost beautiful
sunlight came around him
lifted him high into a tree
full of moss and vines.
A funny little half step
Tilted sideways and dropped.
He sat at the bottom of his foxhole and wept,
grieving
For the men he lost.
I really enjoyed your poem! I thought it was super creative in the way you put the lines together and that your point came across very well. This poem really makes the losses the character's suffer seem very profound and it evoked some emotion from me.
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