Vietnamase War

• Eoin Fitzgerald, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2017

Far away noises the smoke shields the sun,
battle comes closer which way should I run?
Decisions Decisions, my life now depends
on which way I turn, is this the end? Shifting, shuffling slowly for the enemy’s mines, often are lowly. Oh how I long for the earlier days when often along this path I’ve strayed. Memories of joy that seem so elusive.
How can this peace be made so exclusive?
As the rain falls from the low, leaden sky,
the feeling of despair is it here that I die?
Alone and so lonely, awash with despair.
My home is no more my family is scattered like rice grains that fall on the ground.
Oh where, oh where are my loved ones to be found.?
My heart skips a beat at the nearby sounds.
My heart it is broken my feelings are numb,
staring down the barrel of an American gun.