Ö÷²¥´óÐã

Blast
get creative

Title: You were always the hero

by distortedtruth from Warwickshire | in writing, poetry, war

Pain.
Agony.
Anxiety.
It's all I feel,
It's all I know.
I sit here watching,
Waiting for you to return.
Through the rain,
Through the sorrow.
It's not home without you,
The window seat is cold,
Hard, lifeless wood.
Not the place of love
We would once sit on
Together.
You and me,
Together.

We knew it was goodbye at the station. Neither of us would admit it, probably for Mother, but it was there, the reality, the darkness. The time ran out too quickly, I couldn't say all the things I had planned, but with a final hug and your soft kiss on the top of my head and you were gone, on to the train and into the crowd. Gone from my arms and into those of the war. Mother said I could write to you, all the things I never said in time, but it was impossible. It was planned out in my head; a stroke of your hair with one word, a look of belief into your eyes as I told you to make us proud. Those things could never be written off, as you were from me.
Even when we were children you were always the brave one, the hero. I remember I fell out of a tree one summer, and you kept so calm and carried me all the way home from the orchard. You had a seriousness in your eyes but at the same time a weakness, as you cared too much. Maybe you only acted brave infront of me because you were my big brother, but no act could mask the fear and despare in your eyes when you said goodbye, when you went on to that train. You were one of the youngest in your rank, but all your friends said you looked after them, like you did me.
They say you had that same look in you eyes, - serious but with a weakness - as you threw yourself on the grenade. I was right when I looked into your eyes, you did care too much. But you saved them, and in turn saved the country, won the war. You played your part as did so many others, but you payed the highest price.
The funeral was not a goodbye, but a thank you. A ceremony to remember you bravery, not your departure. I guess because I never finished that goodbye at the statiom, I have never really parted from you. Even now with your uniform and bravery medal hanging on my wall I wait. Maybe to finish the goodbye, maybe to embrace me into your arms once more. Who will ever know?

Pain,
Agony,
Anxiety.
It's all I feel,
It's all I know.
I sit here watching,
Waiting for you to return.
Through the rain,
Through the sorrow.
And you and me,
Will again be
Together.

Casey xxx

User rating

No ratings have been submitted

A poem/story about the loss of a brave soldier in the war.

Comments

There have been no comments made here yet.

Ö÷²¥´óÐã iD

Ö÷²¥´óÐã navigation

Ö÷²¥´óÐã © 2014 The Ö÷²¥´óÐã is not responsible for the content of external sites. Read more.

This page is best viewed in an up-to-date web browser with style sheets (CSS) enabled. While you will be able to view the content of this page in your current browser, you will not be able to get the full visual experience. Please consider upgrading your browser software or enabling style sheets (CSS) if you are able to do so.