IRAQ

IRAQ

By Frances Harris

 

It began when I was barely a man,

I remember the year, two thousand and one,

My life was planned, I was happy and free,

And then I woke; the world had changed,

In the blink of an eye I was on a ship, to Iraq,

The country was sick with grief and horror,

The towers attacked, our world in sorrow,

Papers reported a foreign scourge,

Had taken our peace, and had to pay,

Not given a chance to dim our pride,

I was not quite sure what we needed to do,  

I was trained in a hurry and bullet proof,

There was never a hint of the cost to my family,

The war would end in a matter of time,

Brothers at arms all linked together,

Ten years on and I made it through,

Some I knew have long since passed,

The bugle sounded for many a friend,

And here I stand at Arlington,

I see the rows of family, and cry,

Have we learned what really matters?

Hearts so broken and bodies shattered,

And all of those still left to suffer,

Standing on the rim of horror,

Silently the shadows march, to find eternity.