The First Man I Killed Poem by Justin Tanabe

Killing a human being
Is never a good thing.
Even in self defense.
Or in the fight for freedom.
In war.
In those situations
I would call it a necessary evil.

I remember the first man I killed
on Omaha beach.
He was a German boy
who looked like he was barely eighteen.
I slit his throat with a knife
almost decapitating him.
He probably had a mother and father
who loved him.
Or maybe even a wife.
He may have been a good person
who was just brainwashed
by Hitler’s insane ideas.

If I could meet this boys parents
I would tell them I am so sorry
I killed your son.
But I had no choice.
He was my enemy.
I would tell them
I sometimes feel like lady Macbeth.
Because the blood on my hands
will not wash away.