On a moonless night in Baghdad
Young Soldiers are awaiting a bed,
Yearning to be warm, safe and fed,
'It’s almost over, ' they said.
In a crowded Marine barracks
Brogan boots hang from racks
Beds line the floor; clothes are in sacks
Sleep is needed; but the enemy will be back.
Soldier's eyes looking and pondering
Eyes are moving slowly; they're wandering,
Nightmares of women and children dying
The wounded are sighing.
The young troop’s faces, look old and weary
Think of families back home; they get teary
Car bombs killings; it makes them angry
The sound of pain is eerie.
Parents and Siblings; prayers they recite
But think of their children, and they want to fight
Then, close their eyes tight
'Til the morning light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is what every soldier in Iraq is thinking..a profound poem..great work!