Coming Home

Veterans Day poem

Coming Home

Walking with my fellow comrades

in the late afternoon

the only thing i see

is a partially destroyed picture of you.

With one hand grasping the paper

and another on a trigger

My eyes get groggy

and the air feels bitter.

I search for my Sargent

no soul left to see

I’m shot in the heart

and fall to my knees.

You’re still in my hands

and will never leave my heart

impaled by your love

Like the bullet scrap shard

In uniform to my death

you fell by the news

just so you know

my last thought was of you.

Author's Note

Made my momma cry