The Convoy

All goes dark, first sound, then sight.
I look to see my men alright.
Deafening silence in concrete rain,
Distract me from the searing pain.
All time stops and vantage ends,
As I look upon my dying friends.
Radio in and evac out,
No time for tears between the shouts.
Between the blood and shrapnel sands,
Humanity slipped from within my hands.
Left to shrivel beneath the sun,
My price to pay for things I’ve done.




Stephenie Ann Tucker's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
I am a 25 year old woman with a unique standpoint on life. I have two beautiful children and my glass is always half full. Poetry is my medium and diction's my brush.


Last updated February 21, 2012