Clyde Bryson

Rookie - 270 Points (December 19,1951 / Burley Idaho)

After Nights - Poem by Clyde Bryson

I've hated to talk about it,
but there has been so many after nights.
I've needed to work out, one more story.

Trying to end, my often very sad's.
Another one, of mine, the most incredibly bad's!

My heart, was shaking as I knelt on the ground.
My hands, were pressing his wounds.
Pressing hard, prayng, deeper and deeper.
Begging God, Help, Shouting, Holding back the Grim Reaper

Like his mother, with shaking hands
And a sobbing, torn chest
Held him tightly to my breast
Gently wiped the blood from his face and lips
I watched, and felt his soul, escaped my grip.
Raining tears washed the blood from his face.
Even now, I've often wished that God.
Would've let me take his place!

I couldn't bare to see my brother die!
The shouting of my heart, screaming why? God. Why?
Please! God! Why....?
I felt my buddies tears, they were hugging our backs.
Even though, I knew he was dead.
I held him close, I kissed his head.
Like a mother with hurt child.
I sat, rocking him in the mud.
Filling a rice paddy with tears, and blood.

So now after all these years.
I've tried to tell, my life stories. Of so many tears.
I've had enough, to make rice paddies flood?
My tears as I've relived, nights, after nights.
How I tried. To stop. My buddies blood
So, just, how, many tears, does it take to make a rice paddy flood?
I've seen that much, and his filled it with blood.

So when you read this, try to understand.
I'm doing the best that I can.
I fight every day the things that make me so sad.
But it helps to talk about it, and the many after nights!
The days and days, the nights after nights.
I've called my life stories, just incredibly bad...........

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 6, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, December 15, 2012

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