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Open Poetry #43
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Your Drummerboy
| Open Poetry #43 |
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Your Drummerboy |
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Lady Ayla Member
since 2008-07-19
Posts 84WV, United States |
My Dearest Bell, Some of the men are describing war as hell. Bodies are always left behind wherever we roam, from both sides. I admit that I am scared of death, and at nights the fear doesn't calm. I add up how many have had their heads or other limps blown off that are dead. I count the wounded, and the lucky. Bell, I know I shouldn't say such things to a lady, but you have to know the foul truth that is within the war. The other day I saw a young woman crying over her head husband, screaming and wailing. I thought of you. I thought of never holding your hand again, never feeling the softness of your lips, or never having my fingers weave through your hair. It made my chest hurt thinking about it. I might just be a drummer boy, but I am in danger all the same. My best friend, who was in line next to me, Bell, got his face shot off. Blood splashed over me, blinding me. Yet we still marched, even as his body dropped and tears mixed with the blood on my face. The war excites me, oddly. Whenever I'm beating at the drum, it effects the men. A slow, dull pace depresses them. A fast, upbeat rhythm makes them remember what we are fighting for. Do not let yourself forget that, Bell, that I am in this for a good reason, and that I am doing this for both of us. It is time to march again, even though the wind gets chilled, and some men's clothes are ragged and torn. Some have abandoned their shoes to get rid of the blisters that calloused their feet. They are bloody, and raw, and even are on my feet. I have fear of coming out of this war a new man, and with fear of what that man will become. But joy overwhelms that fear, for I know that I will be a better man, a stronger, more intelligent man, when I survive this. My thoughts of you are helping me also. I have you to come home to. And don't fret, I am coming home to you. Sincerely, Your Drummer Boy |
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| © Copyright 2008 Heather L. Baker - All Rights Reserved | |||
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I loved this part: "The war excites me, oddly. Whenever I'm beating at the drum, it effects the men. A slow, dull pace depresses them. A fast, upbeat rhythm makes them remember what we are fighting for." Some folks might argue whether this form is poetry or not--I think the above excerpt is a definitive vote for, yes, yes, it is. |
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Artic Wind Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080Realm of Supernatural |
 I do agree with Serenity on this one. This is totally a poem. I really enjoyed it. I couldn't stop reading until I finished!  Emotions are a Very unique gift to have, and to express them with words (I believe) is a STRONG gift to have!  ARCTIC WIND |
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Lady Ayla Member
since 2008-07-19
Posts 84WV, United States |
Merci, you two. I am glad you enjoyed reading it. |
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