Haven't really done much poetry in the past so I hope this works out all right!
He was just another soldier,
barely seventeen.
His grays were stained and torn,
his arm in a sling.
He just stared out the window
as I pulled up a chair,
I asked about writing a letter home,
he turned to me and said
_
What do I tell her,
how do I say?
I saw other boys falling,
some were just about my age.
The smoky haze was just so thick
that it blocked out the sun,
And there's no way to describe the shake
of a cannon's gun
_
I could tell by his eyes,
he had scars deep within.
Hauntedly empty,
they told of the pain in him.
He had fine lines and wrinkles
that had creased his young face,
Reminding me that from this old bed
he relived it every day
_
How would I tell her
about death and it's feel?
How you could see it creeping closer
as the blood ran down the hills.
How the thunder cracked amid their cries
and the rain mixed with the blood,
Or when the lightning seared the sky
you saw who's life seeped to the mud
_
He never would forget that day,
he told me once again.
His Commander ordered another charge,
it was the one that did him.
He ran from that old battle field,
but was shot and wounded bad.
An infirmary is little safety
from the ghosts of the dead
_
How can I tell her
that as the guns tore the air,
It was no longer the cause I saw
but people lying there.
How the blue and gray collided fierce
until all was stained red,
Or how a common road or farmers field
was turned over to the dead
_
As I paused with my pen
he reached out to grab my wrist,
And I glanced up to reassure
my eyes seeking his,
But all the words tangled up
as I pushed back tears,
For he whispered to his Mama
as he drew his final breath.
_
Dear Mama,
I hope this finds you well,
I'm at a hospital in Birmingham,
there's not much more to tell.
Give my love to Sarah Jane,
And Mama,
don't forget to pray.
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137,630 Literary Works • 672,054 Reviews
Wow, that was such a powerful poem. Really so beautiful. I don't know if this is constructive or not, but in the fourth paragraph, when you say "the rain mixed with the blood" that is such an impactful image, but because you just mentioned the blood running down the hills, its a little weaker. I would suggest using some metonymy and saying "the rain mixed with the (red/crimson/scarlet)" or something like that. Just a random suggestion. The part where he grabs her hand while she writes a letter home for him is jarring. This is such an interesting and vivid poem, you are talented!
Thanks so much for the suggestion! Believe it or not it was one of my first attempts at poetry! I didn't think it would turn out so well!
I'm crying. If that was the reaction you wanted you got it. ToT
So glad you feel that way!
~RagingLive
Wolfie is here to give a review in return!
It's= it is. Its should be used instead.
This poem was a gorgeous read. I loved how you indicated that it was the Civil War with subtle references such as mentioning the color of the uniforms, the cause he was fighting for, and the farmland battlefield. Just gorgeous. The rhythm was smooth and, as far as I can tell, spotless.
The alternating point of view was perfect, as was the vivid imagery of war and the soldier's appearance. It was amazing how you printed him in the reader's vision as a young man, shadowed by war. Mentioning the wrinkles on his face was a nice touch.
And oh, that beautiful ending!!! Don't forget to pray. Wow! I really can't find much else to say because you've written something so incredibly perfect. It has everything a poem needs. It is clear that you have already established yourself as a prolific writer on the sight, and I eagerly look forward to reading more of your works.
You've amazed me. The turn at the end was what made me tear up. The beat and rhymes are balanced, which is so hard to do. There are no parts where this seems forced. It reads as breathless, and anger and desperation build up, but a tired sits right behind it and you can tell he is done. Like others here, I would say that the only thing that needs to be worked on is the changing of perspectives.
Writing that must have been hard too depending on how much of yourself you put into it. Telling one's mother the horrors of a war is something unthinkable, and it is very plausible to say that out of spite for the war, the boy thought it all through bitterly. But a boy couldn't do that. The very ending "And Mama,/ don't forget to pray." After all he's been through, he cares for her life over her understanding.
Please continue sharing your beautiful works!
Thanks so much! I'll try to work on that!
A Great poem potential . You amazed me man . Those feelings are the essence of poetry . Awesome . Great poem wow !!
Thanks for the encouragement!
beautiful.
this reads almost like a song. it's a great meter and very lyrical.
i love the setting. the Civil War was just so sad in general. add an underage kid who also just happens to die... and it makes it all the more devastating.
this poem being written from the nurse's point of view is a great idea. i think it translates well the helplessness even the doctors and nurses felt, while at the same time putting the reader in right smack dab on the front row.
wonderful work.
Thanks!
This brings a tear to my eye (and I don't ever cry over poems). It was beautifully written, and the rhyme and meter are spot on. That is very difficult to do.
I loved how you did it from the nurse's perspective, because I have never seen that done before. The only thing I would change would be to make it a bit more clear when changing perspectives, but that is the only thing I can think of.
You should really do more poetry in the future!
Through your writing, it really put a vivid picture in my mind of what was going on. I could see the boy in his bed, I could smell the cannon smoke, I could hear the other patients moaning from various war-wounds.
The way you made the boy think of how he could tell his mother of the horrors he had seen in battle, and the way you described how worn and old he looked for a boy of seventeen was very realistic, and I find, incredibly difficult to master, as you have in this poem.
The sweet simplicity of the letter at the end was what really made this poem though. It takes it from a note of despair and evil and brings it to a level of hope that was not seen before. It is much more realistic that way. It is hard not to make some sort of elaborate letter he could have sent to his mom, but in reality it would have been a lot like that.
Congratulations on making such a good poem!
Thanks so much for your feedback! It's such a nice feeling to know that you see it from the perspective I was trying to portray!
~RagingLive