Iraq by Mark Spencer

I can't see the sun anymore,
My eyes begin to dim.
The bomb left my body broken;
It shattered every limb.

I lay midst garbage on the street,
Not sure if I'm alone.
Eight soldiers on that transport truck
Who survived is unknown.

And what about the kids we passed,
Were they injured as well?
We saw them playing in the street,
Before things went to hell.

Americans are sitting ducks,
We can't even shoot back.
I don't know why they keep us here,
In this pit called Iraq.

The smell of sewage fills the air,
Can hell be any worse?
There's garbage lining every street,
This city has a curse.

Is this the place I'm meant to die?
Will Jesus find me here?
Or will the devil find me first,
The answer is unclear.

I'd like to see my mom again,
And hug her one last time.
But here I lay, amid the trash,
Face down in dirt and grime.

I feel a tear roll down my face,
As my eyes fade to black.
Another soldier meets his end,
While serving in Iraq.

But was it worth the sacrifice
Of those who died this day?
What is the point in coming here,
If we must live this way?

If we cannot defend ourselves
When enemies attack,
What purpose did this soldier serve
By dying in Iraq?

Justus (166.205.4.21) -- Sunday, July 5 2009, 11:08 pm

This hit home
As a former soldier, this hit home for me. I've lost some good friends over the years, and was wounded myself. Great write Mark. Thanks.

shiloh (67.251.100.215) -- Sunday, July 5 2009, 11:46 pm

unfortunately
as long as this country continues to play world policeman, this will continue. sadly, the world no longer appreciates us when we play world policeman - it ain't the same any more, and we should just take our ball and go home.

barb (67.58.197.120) -- Monday, July 6 2009, 03:29 am

great write Mark
I'm sorry for everything you had to go through,because of like Shiloh said someone doesn't know it is time to take the ball and go home.

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