Bombs Fall In Iraq Poem by Mimie Durand

On a moonless night in Baghdad
Young Soldiers are awaiting a bed,
Yearning to be warm, safe and fed,
'It’s almost over, ' they said.

In a crowded Marine barracks
Brogan boots hang from racks
Beds line the floor; clothes are in sacks
Sleep is needed; but the enemy will be back.

Soldier's eyes looking and pondering
Eyes are moving slowly; they're wandering,
Nightmares of women and children dying
The wounded are sighing.

The young troop’s faces, look old and weary
Think of families back home; they get teary
Car bombs killings; it makes them angry
The sound of pain is eerie.

Parents and Siblings; prayers they recite
But think of their children, and they want to fight
Then, close their eyes tight
'Til the morning light.