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I wrote this poem whenever I was feeling melancholy and I finally finished it. Please tell me what you think of it:
The drums of war were beating,
Last hopes of peace were dashed,
And as pfc Jones sat in his tank,
He wondered where it all went bad.
In the lonely desert,
He thought of home
His mom, his pop, his siblings too
And his steady girl he left alone
He stood on guard,
His thoughts running free
On the radio came voices,
He knew what it would be
All units, this is the commander
Begin, proceed, weapons are free
We’re doing this one for the oppressed,
For Truth, Justice and Liberty.
As the behemoths surged forward
In one single line
He manned his gun
All thoughts banned from his mind
Than new thoughts appeared
He knew what they’d be
His thought process at this moment
Was all about the enemy
How would they come?
Would they come at all?
How many would show?
Then he heard the tank commanders call:
Tankers Ahead!
We’ve been spotted!
Get those SOB’s
Before they report it!
The Loader yelled “Up!”
“On the waaay!” Jones called and fired!
The first shot of the war
Resulted in a flaming pyre
Quick look around,
The other enemy tanks were gone.
The first battle of the war
Had just been fought and won.
Jones felt no glory,
Nor a wrench of pain,
There was a battle being fought,
And Objectives to be gained.
Over the radio net,
Voices once again
Beware men, our scouts report
Ahead rough terrain.
The enemy is not dumb,
He knows the land well
There’s gonna be an ambush there
Let’s go give ‘em Hell!
The Behemoths kept coming,
Troops at the ready
“I’ve got a target!
Armored vehicle, looks heavy!”
“Don’t get bogged down!”
“Fire at will!”
The drivers maneuvered wildly
As gunners went for the kill
The picture got clearer,
And through his gunners sight
Jones could see what looked like
The entire enemy’s might.
Rows of vehicles
Tanks and APC’s
This battle was going to be tough and hard
Surely not a breeze.
The fought long and hard,
The tank rounds flying
Gunners on both sides scoring hits,
People on both sides dying.
A couple hours later
The result was clear:
The enemy was vanquished,
The end of the battle was near
Word over the radio
Was great indeed
For every single armored force
Their Objective did achieve
Casualties were high,
But tears were not shed
For the mission was not over,
There was more ahead.
As they moved into the town
And took up their positions
The people of the town came running out
With cups and juice in pitchers.
To greet their saviors
The heroic fighters.
Cigarettes were passed around as they
Shook hands and passed around lighters.
Out of the crowd
Came an orphan child
Who for years had no chance
Nor desire to smile
But as she went up to Jones
With a flower in her hand
There was a smile on her face
And it seemed to light the land.
And so the battle was over
The people were free
Released from their rulers evil hand
Finally rid of that evil Tyranny.
Jones felt good inside
Better than he felt in years
Knowing that because of him
This girl would cry no more sorrowful tears.
"Retreat, hell! We just got here!"-Captain Lloyd Williams, 2nd Marine Division, Belleau Wood, France, WWI
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