War Zone

And suddenly your place of peace
is once again a battle zone
and you are crawling on the ground
amidst the explosions all around,
finding a corpse on the earth,
afraid to pull back the veil, sure somehow,
it is you,
both enemy and victim,
unable to find your way
out.

About this poem.

Sometimes you have a really bad day, self-inflicted and crawling out is harder than it should be.

The picture was taken in the Marine Corps Museum in Quantico, Virginia.

Tom