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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:32:59 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 179886
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My Wages From War
[time] => 2014-11-29 06:14:00
[hometext] => True Stories
[bodytext] => It’s been 23 years since I left a hell hole in the desert sand I was okay with it then because I wanted to serve, it made me feel like a man Gulf War Veterans our war was short and sweet But all in all it was a war and living that life doesn't make any person complete Wearing the same dirty uniform being able to feel the gritty sand inside The sand seemed to be in the air from it, there was just no place to hide Dead animals and dead people I never thought would stick in my mind like so Checking out burned out tanks and bunkers something we did while on the go Vicious dogs living in the bunkers left behind by Iraq soldiers, as they left in such a hurry The dogs were often killed that part of my memory is not even blurry My truck broke down I was the last in a convoy across the desert at night The other 5 trucks kept on going I was all alone and watched them drive out of sight Scared out of my mind and all alone my mind began to race Just waiting to be captured by Iraq soldiers those hours alone in the desert, from my mind I will never erase Fortunate for me I made it through the night a different person forever I will be Since my unit left me behind never realizing they lost me When convoys drove across the desert it was at an angle because dust rose so far in the air We drove at great speeds to avoid capture by the enemy, as they certainly were there There was another occasion when we drove through this small town There were children running everywhere I kept my eyes peeled and was looking all around Then all of a sudden before I could even shout I locked up my brakes in front of my truck three boys ran out So much dust fear and confusion as one boy was begging for food from me I kept on driving but the other boys I did not see I never opened my mouth out of fear and or persecution What happened to me on that day I still see in full resolution Not a day goes by when I wonder what happen to those boys I remember so well all the dust and braking noise I couldn't see to the rear and I kept on driving my truck I was afraid of being captured or killed all of those memories in my head are forever stuck This is the first time I speak of these things stuck in my head There are many times when I cry because I have no idea if those little boys are alive or dead E. Wayne Searles 29 November 2014 Copyright © 2014 E.Wayne Searles All Rights Reserved http://www.poeticquest-1.biglaunch.net/ Soul-of-a-poet@hotmail.com [comments] => 5 [counter] => 265 [topic] => 43 [informant] => waynster [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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