The lips are thin their colour grey
the hair is dull and lank
the skin is pallid
tugor at bay
the smell is fetid, rank
the wound is swollen
putrid, reddened
exposed are tissue and bone
what man lies here
dead and neglected?
what inspired him to roam?

the war that left him lying here
alone on hardened ground
did abandon him
as all wars will
to his silence amongst  
the furious sound

what home did he leave?
what cause was his?
that left him so cold and pale
so far from where he began
so distant from a family’s wail
with no one to grieve his lost soul
with none to respectfully lay him deep

we will take him to yet another hole
we will bury him amongst the others
in yet another heap

 

Poetry days #15.

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