by Tabitha Baylor
(“The Memory of a War” mobile version)
for David R. Efaw
All of the memories from far overseas, now are remembered without the greatest of ease. The long days you went through, living without your parents and two younger brothers to tease. Each experience cherished, each life that was lost; one cannot say that there wasn’t a great cost. All the bloodshed, and screams in the night, each man so brave to be willing to fight, and even to lose his life. Some go in fear, others went instantly, crying and screaming for their mothers to once again hold them, just one last time, to ease the pain and slow down the time. The painful screams of guns and bombs, of innocent villages, of children who lost more than just their arms. Families split up, ruined and in fear; children lay in hospitals, some dying, shedding numerous tears. What have they done to deserve this? Some may ask. What can they give? They have no money, just the rags upon their backs. The days, months, and even years went by, the knowledge and meaning of war are not known to just any eye … only the eyes of the men who fought, who lost their lives, for such a great cost! All the friends, sons, husbands, and fathers … their memories will go on, even if their lives were lost. The tears that are still shed when this memory is brought to mind, the pain of the years of fighting and torment. This memory should never die! But should continue to be passed on to others, even though they’ll never view it with their own eyes. Remember, and tell all that you possibly can, about each life that was lost, each one that you touched as a brave man.
–
–
–
–
–
–