Ground Zero Poem by Gert Strydom

At a time I was forced
to go to ground zero
and there nobody
wanted to be a hero,
but some without choice
let the training take command
and did really brave things.

In war it’s a place,
where bullets fly
and the battle rages
at its worst
and bombs explode
and the living is worst
than dead.

The deafening noise
of the toys of war
at places still clatter on,
but reality leaves
people wounded, crushed and destroyed.

I wonder if it was the place,
where my soul was lost
and emptiness filled my heart
and the meaning
of life was gone?