Shell Shock
By luigi_pagano
- 3899 reads
I don't seem to remember
My father at all.
He went to the war
And came back in November
But he isn't the father
I knew.
My father was masterful,
I dimly recall.
This old man with a stooping
Appearance looks pitiful.
And I find myself asking:
Is it you?
I look at him trembling
As he stares at the wall
With eyes vacant, and the image
Of someone resembling
A diaphanous ghost I
Perceive.
The thousands who fell
In answering the call,
Are eternally at peace in Elysium
But some who survived suffer hell
Here on earth and
Grieve.
© Luigi Pagano
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Comments
Hi Luigi. What a sad and
Hi Luigi. What a sad and emotive poem. I am sure this is just what it is like for many families with a member in the armed forces. My Grandad survived WW1 but my Dad told me that some ten years later he had a sort of breakdown, just vanished and was found distressed 'sitting on the ironmongers doorstep' in a sad and confused state. Nothing changes does it?
Linda
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Excellent piece Luigi...
Excellent piece Luigi... thanks for that link.
Rob
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Hi Luigi,
Hi Luigi,
with Rememberance Day on the horizon, this would be such a good piece to put on again.
Sadly war seems to bring out the poetry in us as writers, this is such a good poem.
Jenny. xx
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