This Vital War Poem by Lee Webber

This Vital War



HELP, HELP! People are dying in here.
A makeshift shelter crafted from the fallen remains of broken homes cannot play fact to the torture we’ve endured.
A young woman, cradles her screaming child, embracing her fear as she clutches to what’s left.
The air runs thick with an unpleasant taste, as nurses scramble to heal the incurable.
Heroic soldiers return home, yet never to walk again.
Souls in their hands, they ask themselves why. ‘Where is our God when we needed him most’.
As they sit in their chairs, their shoulders hung low, like the sagging arms of a weeping willow.
Badges in hand and their guns on the floor - there are no need for them in this world anymore.

Amidst the screaming and the struggle for life, an old man sits down besides his wife.
“Wake up my dear, it’s time to go”, but it’s no good, she just lays there apart from this world.
He grasps her hand, tighter and tighter,
“Wake up my dear, it’s time to go.”
But still, she moves not, the mans heart skips a beat,
And silently he begins to pray to his God.
Time stands still and all dwells to a halt,
It’s silent around them, it’s just him and his wife.
A quiet noise, a fight for air,
A faint shudder and she’s dead - he won’t see her again.

But there, in the corner, sitting blissfully,
was a young girl dressed in white, clutching her dress.
Her face was empty, cold, dead from expression.
She whispered to herself, over and over, and rocked herself backwards and forwards again.
“Hello my dear”, I smiled at her. “Where are your parents, I don’t see them here.”
“They’re dead”, she replied, “They burnt alive”, and with that she got up and walked straight out the door.
As if by some magic she could see her own death, she silently stepped out in front of a car.
A screech of the brakes, and a sudden dull thump, and she was quietly acquainted with her loved ones again.

Rubbish, but does it connect with any rubbish people?

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lee Webber 15 March 2010

Thank you very much for replying. I submitted this poem in haste, and don't even like it myself. I thought this would get ridiculed and laughed at, so thank you.

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Lee Webber

Lee Webber

Torbay, UK
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