A Lost War Poem by Joseph Lee

I look around this desolate land
The gunshots seem to come hand in hand
I see the bodies that were once called men
But some of the faces reveal boys of ten
Their bodies wounded, drip of fresh blood
Their faces, still, are covered with mud

I walk around the different spaces
Wiping the mud off familiar faces
I see a body that moves among the rest
Crawling forward then crumbling to his chest
I run towards the fallen one
He clutches his heart and drops his gun

His was Red, the son of a pastor
Who wished his death to come much faster
His face was young and he gave me a smile
Said he was proud for a little while
He killed many men both young and old
And now it was his turn to appear bold

'To fight like this seemed so heroic
To die a death fit for a stoic
But now my death is sure to come
As I feel my body starting to numb
I'm sorry for what I have done
To kill so many innocent ones'

He rambled on, this boy named Red
But now he's silent, now he's dead.