This Poem was Submitted By: Sheila B Roark On Date: 2001-01-18 07:17:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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His Nightmare

He carries his rifle carefully and searches for some prey hoping he can make a score before the end of day. Salty sweat falls in his eyes and fear invades his soul, he trembles from the dread he feels as wartime takes its toll. Around him he hears piercing screams from wounded brave young men, and when he sees his best friend die his tears fall down like rain. This is the nightmare he must live, a horror known as war and so he picks his rifle up to seek his prey once more.

Copyright © January 2001 Sheila B Roark

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