Casualty Of War Poem by cheryl davis miller

Another, casualty of war.
The face’s, wear an empty look.
Old eye’s that do not meet your gaze.
Scars that cannot be miss-took.

I see them every where I go.
Aloof; withdrawn bearing pain.
Living behind, some hidden wall.
An entrance; difficult to gain.

You ask, “What battle did they fight,
that devastated their hearts, so?
Was it in some, far-off strange land?
Where was this battle, do you know? “

The answer friend is hard to bear.
I’ll tell you, if you care to know.
It was right there, in Father’s home.
By family they were wounded so.

Intent is never always there.
And yet results are still the same.
Now only Love; can heal the wounds.
Not pointing fingers; laying blame.

One Love can overlook the glares.
Then dare reach out a loving hand.
The Father’s love will never fail.
Only His heart can understand.

He alone, can heal the wounds,
so that His house, may be restored.
Then gather back, into the fold,
All of these casualties, of war.




c.d.m.10-3-10