Brotherly LoveA Poem by Tate MorganThose who live forever bonded round a fire and hearth, spin their tales Are stories truly worth the cost of a poor mother's cries and wailsTwo friends upon a battlefield one left on the ground as he dies In a foxhole, the other sits listening to his mate's poor, cries
The first man wanted to save his mate but the Sergeant said, not to go "You'll only kill yourself instead" "I can't leave him that's all I know"
The Sergeant went to turn away as the first man dove from the hole "I have to save my friend," he said "if it costs my immortal, soul"
Minutes later he slid back in clutching his dead friend, in his arms Mortally wounded, he was now blood was pouring, from both forearms Laid to rest within his friends arms "a waste" said the Sergeant, to some "When I found him, he was alive his last breath said" "I knew you'd come"
Those who live forever bonded round a fire and hearth, tell the tales Are stories told, worth the cost of a poor mother's, cries and wails
Ask a man to die for country he will die for his friend instead the poor man is still surely dead
Could we strive to be something more than a tombstone, upon the ground Is death the true test of friendship when Taps plays, the ultimate sound
If we don't learn to love, brothers extinction will be how Man ends It's hard to live a life of pride at the cost of so many friends
© 2020 Tate MorganAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTate MorganMarion , OHAboutAvailable from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..Writing
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