He looked around Ryan Baker.9 Ghosts of War He’d been in the same spot for years
In the same field Not knowing if the war was over If his sacrifice meant anything He knew he’d never leave this place This terrible place The memories never fading, the memories he fails to purge from his mind He doesn’t know if any of his friends survived Their forgotten body could be feet away He longs for someone to save him from this torture of living As the sun sets the other forgotten ghosts of war appear and go through the same motions. Wisal K. Khurmish. 9 My Uncle, My Angel
After ISIS attacked, we fled to somewhere Far from our deaths We lived in tents that contained safety My Uncle’s tent was next to ours
My Uncle, my angel Even the devil would feel empathy For this man, the broad shoulders, Tall, skinny, dark, but he had a sad aura That would consume him
Whenever I looked outside He was always standing there in front of the tent smoking a cigarette and When anyone would approach him he would talk about the things he loved Like watching soccer, anime, or drawing, He was always a great muse to me
The rough touch of his callus hands the ugly looking pimple The only hand I wanted to hold when I was sad
Whenever he was alone, the expressionless face he had Was what I feared the most He had this sad face like he had been through hell Hell, no one could ever describe
My Uncle, My Angel He was the light of my darkness, But did I ever try to be the light Of his darkness? It is what I regret most in the world
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