Union soldier

• Andrew Xanthos, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2004

He drew his sword quickly,
then was behind me.
They locked their riffles.

Men were all around me, screaming.
The hope was lost, we can't win.
We ran as fast as horses,
hoping to see daylight again.

"They held up well," said the general.
We opened fire to show them our best.
I lay down, sobbing.
My battle-scared body on the field.

This is my chance, I whisper;
this is my last chance;
no one can hurt me, I'm a Union Soldier.