Iraq Bound Poem by Thomas Cornfield

Iraq bound
By Thomas William Cornfield

The night is cold.
I am bitter.
A raindrop chills my bones.
I ponder on the day ahead,
will it bring good, it always brings dread.
The grinder doesn't mind who it chews.
It could be me, it could be you.
Walk away,
walk away,
Thoughts I cannot choose.
I hear the cheers and the songs
of crowds that are not here.
If they were, they would see
the real name of fear.
But I am Bold, and I'm strong.
I will go home.
I hope it's like. When I left.
Things change so fast, Ya Know.