The Lost Soldiers 


Body after Body, row after row

The young skin glow of soldiers turned grey and dull

Pink lips turned cold, and blue like an early winters morning

Brains filled with memories of loved ones; erased 

Their families at home, wishing for answers; why him; why

Sounds of nothing but destruction coming from every direction, surrounding those still standing

Sweaty hands gripping weapons so tight their knuckles turned white

Swollen feet longing to be off the ground, longing to feel fresh air

Early lives cut short for reasons that will never be solved

These are the harsh realities of the lost soldiers.

This poem I wrote is trying to show the realities of the soldiers that fight in war, and those who don't have a name. We always see it as such a great thing, which it is that they risk their lives for us, but is it really worth it for them? . In the poem "Dulce Et Decorum Est" by Wilfred Owen, he writes "Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots...(Owen7)." This is the reality to those in war. What do wars even do? They only cause lives lost, and families to be hurt. We often don't think about how the soldiers and their families feel, we're just grateful because it's not us. The ones fighting in war have names that we don't know, partners, mothers, children, brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, and grandparents; so much family, as we all do. When those soldiers lose their lives, the families lose apart of themselves. They have memories with so many people, and been so many places, and have had impacted so many peoples lives, in so many different ways, and all of that is just..gone so quickly. Sometimes in war, soldiers who get killed aren't always found; they go "missing in action." So, this poem is for soldiers, the ones who die without a name, the ones who are never found, the ones who go MIA, and aren't able to officially be put to rest, and have their families say goodbye.