Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I remember well his spirit on that warm September day. Al Quaida had attacked us, Tom enlisted right away. In Operation Phantom Fury, near deaf from the cannons roar, He manned a Marine battery in November of 04' He was present when Fallujah fell proud of his unit's aim. Then he saw his best friend die After that, his letters changed. He came unscratched through tours of duty both there and in Afghanistan. He was strangely quiet when back home like he was a different man. At night we would be awakened by his screaming in his sleep. He was haunted by experiences of which he wouldn't speak. The V.A. couldn't help him escape the horror of the war. Wounds so deep opened in sleep, unbound, unsalved,and raw. I thank you for the folded flag, The honors of the field. We lost Tom several years ago, only now is it revealed.
0
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
The Man who never Returned
I remember well his spirit on that warm September day. Al Quaida had attacked us, Tom enlisted right away. In Operation Phantom Fury, near deaf from the cannons roar, He manned a Marine battery in November of 04' He was present when Fallujah fell proud of his unit's aim. Then he saw his best friend die After that, his letters changed. He came unscratched through tours of duty both there and in Afghanistan. He was strangely quiet when back home like he was a different man. At night we would be awakened by his screaming in his sleep. He was haunted by experiences of which he wouldn't speak. The V.A. couldn't help him escape the horror of the war. Wounds so deep opened in sleep, unbound, unsalved,and raw. I thank you for the folded flag, The honors of the field. We lost Tom several years ago, only now is it revealed.
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem