A Ballad
Four years in a desert
without any incidents.
Things are quiet now.
At least, for this instant
It has been four long years.
How are you, my dear?
How are the kids?
Tell them they need not fear
For I am safe at the base
I don’t go out much
They always need fixing;
the soldiers and such.
I have not faced combat
in these past four weeks.
But the walking wounded have shown me
it’s no place for the weak.
Contreras returned today
from Checkpoint November.
It’s in the heart of the city.
If I correctly remember
He didn’t crack a joke
like he usually would.
His head was eaten by his shoulders
Freezing the mood
I went up to him and asked
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
And he replied,
“He is gone”
No tears ran my cheek
I didn’t say a word
We both were silent
Quiet, was the world.
My friend was dead
and I felt unsympathetic
This place has changed me
and I’m fed up with it.
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