Collateral Damage
They haunt me in my briefest sleep,
They’re never far away,
Their shattered bodies stay with me
In the night or light of day.
From somewhere came a storm of fire;
We fired back at the place.
Women’s screams and children’s cries,
Red-spattered on each face.
Mothers and their small children
Lay in gory refrains,
And nowhere can the guns be found
‘Mid twisted, torn remains.
Shards of a loving family,
A grimace shrouds each face,
Embrace in bloody agony, their
Bodies like antique lace.
How can these be my enemies?
No guns or arm held high,
There, children’s cherub faces
Without a will to die.
I’m in a constant battle,
And one I did not wage.
I’m here to do my duty,
Then turn another page.
No stranger, then, to murder,
But like a sin to me.
To take life from another,
Not what I want to be.
In this keen internal strife,
My mind cannot resolve.
The killer and compassion
In acute torment revolve.
And so, I can’t get past the pain,
The noise and solitude.
I see the masks of those I’ve slain,
Feel guilt I can’t elude.
They visit me in briefest sleep.
They do not go away.
Their anguished eyes stare back at me
Through each tormented day.
Hal C Clark – November 11, 2010
Veterans Day
This is a tribute to the men and women who endanger their lives to fight in our wars. Some are killed, some have physical injuries, while others have psychological injuries not easily seen or evaluated. Trauma to the mind is just as debilitating as a physical injury, and to those brave men and women who suffer this kind of injury, I dedicate this poem.
Hal C Clark's Blog 