One Last Hope (Brothers In Arms)

• Matthew Winefield, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2015

The blunt sound of the bullet echoed through the air,
Ripping through, breaking the bodies of the men.
The bodies in the tanks, dead in the chair.
Soldiers were just about to retreat but then,
their air-support arrived. Devouring everyone in sight.
The battered beaten brothers in arms battled on with might.
As I looked around still wondering if we’d won,
I felt a sharp shooting pain which really stung.
I dropped my gun, I tried reaching.
I then saw my friend with a gun to his head beseeching.
I was his one last hope.
I don’t know how I could cope.
I crawled and grabbed my gun shooting a round of lead…
With a bang ONE of them was dead.
At that moment I prayed with all my might,
Us battered beaten brothers in arms had battled on with might…