About the Poem
This poem was inspired by my ex beau. He and I are both Civil war re-enactors, and this is more of a civil war era poem.
Sometimes The Wounded
|by Miss Abagail Mannering|
|Sometimes the Wounded,
whose arms and legs lay askew-
beg not for medicine or bandage wrappings,
but for a tender word or two.
For a gentle hand to smooth the hair
on an ever furrowed brow.
Or a simple sip of water,
to ease their discomforts for now.
A damp cloth on a fevered cheek
or a simple wave of fan-
makes many a man rather meek...
perhaps never to be strong again.
Whether the wool be gray or blue,
the color matters naught.
They ALL bare the many scars
from the battles that they've fought.
So understand and love them,
for the precious fools they are..
For, tomorrow may not come for them;
They may live among the stars.
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