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The name of yet another soldier, killed in a far distant land, has been released; he died fighting a war that made no sense, supposedly to protect us. To his family he was a precious loved one, but to the rest of us he is just another dead soldier.

He lay where he fell, it was bad he could tell.
The bullet burnt like hell in his back.
Face to the ground, with no medic around,
Pinned down by the weight of his pack.

Will Scribe Another Dead Soldier“I’ll die here” he thought, a life wasted for nought,
A medal and flag for his widow.
Was it wrong or right, a necessary fight?
He just followed orders, no need to to know.

There are some who will say he was running away,
A bullet in the back is the proof.
Easy to critise, until you realise
The sniper was perched on a roof ?

Coward or hero? It all counts for zero,
Dying slowly alone in the dust.
And no help at hand, that’s not what was planned,
Let down by those he should trust.

A rotor blade blast, help comes at long last!
But too late for this glorious son.
Going home in a coffin, it happens too often,
But they say that the battle was won.

Will Scribe Image 11 Frame 01All Original Writings Are Copyright Protected
© Will Scribe 2013-2015

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