The following two poems are a couple of more Iraq War era verses. Both were published in print at Small Brushes, a small press literary publication in New York, in 2005 while I was still playing toy soldier in Rumsfeld's sandbox. They were published under my real name, Allen Taylor. If you like these poems, you can see more in my collection titled affectionately "Rumsfeld's Sandbox (Not an affiliate link)."

Image from Pixabay.

Battlefield Confession

I have been to war
That much is true
Though halfway I can say at best;
And when the day is done
I turn out the light
And sleep cozy in my nest.

I’ve ridden hard the battle
That most men adore
And would fight the good fight again;
But to be honest and fair
I’d like to admit
That I’ve never killed a man.

‘Tis true, and I’ll say it again;
It’s not so bad,
I’m half a pound glad
Not to have killed a man.

Life

Oh, when the sadness of death comes knocking
And the people move to their rooms,
When the dry rapt of laughter
Fills their minds with tombs,
Crypts for the common man to keep
At his bedside,

Yes, and when the tears of joy
Fall on children
Staring dull-faced into the future
As far as the eye can see,

When February casts its pall
Of false hope on August or December,
You’ll see the light.
You’ll see it flicker and burn,
Burn and glow; glow, enflame, then burn,
And you’ll know;
Yes, you will know
That life is what you really need.
It is. There. Take it.

That's all I have for this glorious Sunday. Enjoy your life.