The Last Time I Was There

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
i poem wrote fro my memories of deployment in a view most isnt seen in

Submitted: October 27, 2012

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Submitted: October 27, 2012

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The Last Time I Was There

I can remember it all. Sometimes like it’s still all around.

The site, the smell, the sand, rocks and sand covering all the ground, the mountains, site of nothing, only air all the way to the horizon.

An ocean scene with thousands of diamonds is something more I would prefer to see. Yet miles away from just a stream seems impossible to ever be seen.

Impossible to hear the smoothing running waters, to relax the day of roaring blades, blades cutting in the wind to carry important people away to a greater calling to make the land I came from safer and to uphold its freedom.

The wish to see a shooting star, yet a shooting star here isn’t what it seems.

Crashing into the earth, sometimes claiming a life of the warriors who shall all risk his life so you can be free, I pray every day that next it won’t be me.

The shooting star I’ve been seeing is not a shooting star that could ever be for me. The beauty of this world I learned to really see.

Miles away from anything I can feel the wind speak to me.

I learned to see the wonders of the great world we live in, all from this place I never really wanted to be in, this land I’m in I’ve been calling aghland but a theme park isn’t what its came to be.

This land shall forever know no peace.

This land I’m in will forever be called, the one and only,

Afghanistan.


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