My love, accursed, will never let me go.
I mourn your loss and all those wasted years.
The wars that men have fought for causes, though,

Can never bring you back, nor make it so
That I can be a stranger to my tears.
My love, accursed, will never let me go.

Though life will course along in ebb and flow,
Because your light was lost the sting adheres.
The wars that men have fought for causes, though,

The lives they claimed in bloody mud and snow,
Can never bring an end to human fears.
My love, accursed, will never let me go.

Perhaps someday the spring will bloom and grow,
And soldiers put away their swords and spears.
The wars that men have fought for causes, though,

Can’t staunch the memories of long ago,
Or ease the hurt that never disappears.
My love, accursed, will never let me go,
The wars that men have fought for causes, though.

 

 

Bio: I am a retired computer geek who lives (still, somehow) in Oakland, California.  I am a Vietnam War veteran.

Related Post

‘Oak’ and Other Poetry by Jeffrey Essmann Oak In quiet awe before a solid oak in summer bloom, I thought: to such as these my Saxon kin of long ago bespoke their pagan prayers—a source of ...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.