on belatedly hearing of an old friend's death*

A simple 18-year-old
Pennsylvania kid.

He volunteered
to lead a patrol
down a heavily
mined road.

Gifts were exchanged.

He gave them
half a left leg
and a whole
right foot.

They gave him a
shining silver star
in a beribboned box.

A few moments
of congratulations
before whiskey, drugs
and homelessness ensued.

The hero's life.

Now he is dead,
the medal long pawned.

Life can be merciless
even for the brave.

No part of this story
means anything.

  ~mce

Fire!
Seven shots sound
Seven shots heard

They lower you into the soil
You always passed on through each toil

Fire!
Seven shots sound
Seven shots heard

Mother cries into my shoulder,
I look away as i lose my brother

Fire!  
Seven shots sound
Seven shots heard

A heroes burial you deserve,
This nations life you did preserve.