Battle Field Sympathy
In the city of Atlanta, Georgia,
There is a revolving mural,
depicting the darkest of America.
Unions and Confederates lay dead,
scattered amongst a brown field,
17 year old men, cut from existence,
for reasons they never were sure of.
No signs of hope, or forgiveness,
Aside the fact we are all human.
freedom in two different aspects,
the stars and bars, the bonnet blue.
Fire lights the sky as the smoke fades.
A merge of gray and blue, in a beautiful chaos.

In the distance a string of humanity.
A wounded Union soldier lays in pain,
by his side, a caring angel in gray,
one of General Lee's men, gives aid.
Aside for now the differences,
survival is what truly matters,
in this blood shed for total control,
Many times this plays out again,
though it always ends the same.
There is no winner, nor loser,
just lost souls left to wander.
Seeking a reason for their death,
A vengeance they will never find...

Comments:
 
TheGrifter   TheGrifter wrote
on 7/21/2009 11:37:14 PM
This was a good poem.

Shadowofsatan666
Poetry
Other
writing Shadowofsatan666
Bookmark and Share

You must log in to rate.
Rating: 10.0/10

Synopsis
My great great great grandfather was a soldier for the Confederate States of America, underneath General Robert E. Lee. He is depicted in the Atlanta Cyclorama giving water from his canteen to a wounded Union soldier. A rather touching display of humanity considering the circumstances..
© 2014 WritingRoom.com, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WRITING | POETRY WRITING | CREATIVE WRITING | WRITE A BOOK | WRITING CONTESTS | WRITING TIPS