Bullets hit, bombs explode. People are dying.
Back at home, women and children are crying.
Hearts are pierced, despite Kevlar vests,
Yet at home, people mount protests.
Soldiers willingly fight to preserve our liberties,
Yet people here attack them and the war like a swarm of bees.
Away at war soldiers live and die,
But at home, little care we do supply.
Soldiers hope to return to parades,
Sometimes now they only get words as blades.
The soldiers can’t hear the protestors’ words that would invoke pain,
So let us show our soldiers that we don’t think they fight in vain!
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Comments about this poem (Years Through My Eyes by Matt Holden )
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