“I Can’t Feel My Legs Sergeant.”

The night air was warm and still
And all about was quiet now
After all the falling down
And bombs exploding on the ground.

I couldn’t help but wonder then
Why it was we’re still alive
But all the thinking couldn’t change
What it was that we had done.

The corpses then seemed to be
Lying everywhere around
And better men were dead and gone
And I was still alive.

The private looked like he would die
And I had not a thing to give
No wisdom and no boon to soothe
When he spoke to me.

I did not see nobility anywhere inside myself
And heros seemed to all have fled
I’m sure the kid was better than
I would ever hope to be.

I looked at him; he looked at me.
There was nothing I knew to say
I looked up and he looked down
And listened as his fear spilled out.

Why would I recover?
How would I move on?
I didn’t understand
As he spoke his dying words.

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