George J. Luther
A SOLDIER’S LAMENT
My friend you died the other day,
Is there anything that I can say,
To explain this shameful way I feel,
I wish to God it were not real.
A feeling I must always hide;
Keep it buried deep inside.
Have no doubt, I feel truly sad,
But there is also a trace of glad.
We were close as brother and brother
Did our best to look after one another.
We swore we’d never hesitate
To assume the other’s untimely fate.
You were point; clearing jungle vine
When you came upon a Claymore mine.
I will never forget that sight;
It fills my days, haunts me by night.
I wonder if you’d feel the same;
A nagging guilt, a sense of shame,
If circumstance had chose instead,
That you would live, and I be dead.
We questioned ourselves when we both said
If only one could live, we’d opt for dead.
Now I know for sure if I had my say,
I’d rather be you, than feel this way.
©Copyright January 15, 2004 by George J. Luther