A Soldier's Prayer
Do not let my thoughts turn that way
That on this hot oppressive day
Where blood is blasted in the streets
Where men I've loved are bloodied meat;
Their hammered breaths on parched caked lips
Their brown stained crusted finger tips
Have lost their play and all for naught
The standng asking why we fought?
Honor red carrion in the street,
Where is the life we once held sweet?
Turn not my howls to insurrection
Our lives were spent in misdirection.
Comments about this poem (A Soldier's Prayer by David McLansky )
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