I don’t think I’ll ever know why I wrote this. As an adult my poetry has been almost exclusively autobiographical. But I think I will always like it, just the same.
Where the war at?
Where you marching in your green?
Where your boots a-heading
On a road you’ve never seen?
Who you fighting?
Who you killing in the haze?
Who you pumping full of bullets
and burning in the blaze?
What you dreaming?
What you seeing in the sky?
What you thinking in the darkness
When it’s God who sees you cry?
Who you loving?
Who’s the girl you left behind?
Was she blonde just like your mama
Or dark as you could find?
Who you blaming?
Who you thanking for the fight?
Soldier, who you waiting on
To come and make things right?
Why you bleeding?
Why’s it more than you can bear?
Is it burning spears of metal
Or your heart that needs the care?
Where you lying?
Where you resting far from home?
Hey Soldier, where’s the gravestone
So your soul won’t have to roam?
What you seeing?
What you find beyond the light?
Hey Soldier, can you tell me
Is it ever worth the fight?