Nightly my dreams are haunted
by never ending scenes of
war. No scenes of positive,
uplifting joy, just blasted
husks of buildings, burned out towns,
tanks rolling, belching out flames.
Men struggling, so loud the sounds
which pound in my head. It pains
me that I am still so tuned
to this hell that I have shunned.
©2018
If you enjoy this poem perhaps you might like to read POEMS: AN EXPLORATION OF LIFE
Aaron's Poetry Page 