Rookie (01/13/1940 / BLUE DIAMOND KY)

The Face - Poem by CHARLES BAILEY

I left home when I was only thirteen
The farm life I thought was not for me
I've returned, I stand here looking in the window
Hopeing that the darkness will hide me.

The fire in the grate is brightly burning
The old one room shack still looks the same
I wait and listen, through the broken window
Then I hear my mother speak my name

'Dad' she said 'I often think of Charlie
When his little arms would hold me tight'
'I know' he said 'That's why I watch the meadow
From early dawn until the last twilight'

I wanted to rush in and kiss them
Tell them that I'd come home to stay
But I knew, inside, it would hurt them more
To see me the way I am today.

My mind keeps telling me to go now
Let them keep their memories
The war has left me less than a man
This thing that's called a face they must not see

As I slowly walk down through the meadow
I turn to look at the house once more
The tears in my eyes, makes me realize
I must never return anymore

The war has left me less than a man
I must never return anymore

Comments about The Face by CHARLES BAILEY

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 20, 2007

Poem Edited: Monday, April 18, 2011

[Hata Bildir]