Have you ever
cried for a fallen soldier,
seen the blood trickle from his wounds like a never ending stream,
as his face goes pale white–ice cold, eyes staring into the open sky;
as his life spills on the ground like an endless puddle of death?
Seen the faces of the family members as they hear the knock on the door,
the one they have been dreading.
their loved one is finally coming home
but in a box, cold, and dead never the same.

I have cried for that soldier
I have imagine their last minutes, seconds,
as his chest sinks down for the last time, never to rise again.
I have imagined his family
the ones who never got to say good bye,
tears streaming from their faces.
The water drops glistening in the sun
as sadness and death hangs heavy in the air.