Old Man's Memories Poem by ms. carrot

The old man walks the broken streets of the land
Few bodies decorate the rubble path
“Indeed this is life” he thought
The young boy walked to the market
The smell of the divine red apples danced the air
Bright, delicious apples
Just then a few kids ran by
All laughing, giggling
The young boy turned around to look at them
Then at his mother
And smiled
His mother smiled back
The warm smile that melt his heart
He was a lucky boy indeed
A boy that was wealthy
Wealthy with family
The old man, walks toward the market
Children with fear struck in their faces, trudge by
The old man, snivels tears
The young boy lost his wealth
His family took their fateful places
Each memory taped into his heart
Some there feets in the oceans
While body in the ground
Some eyes, ears and nose united
He walked through the piles of ashes and fallen bricks
The old man walks an chooses his path
Through piles of bodies that lay coldly on the surface
Like autumn leaves that sprayed the path
Blood painted itself happily onto the broken road
The old man takes a deep breath
“This is my country”, he says.