by HollywoodSmile
Silence.
no, there it is again.
the wretched wringing of bells aroused the patriot in me.
me, and thirty seven other minute men.
thirty seven worried wives, threatened lives, amd families;
Waiting.
Waiting while we gather, bodies soon to be scattered, across Bedford Road.
A local farmer denied the Redcoats' arrival, a frontiersmen told other wise.
The rumors held true, on horse back they came, "Lay down your arms!" but we
Rebels no longer obeyed Brittish command.
Drums.
Sounding the beat to arms, at the word of Captain Parker.
One shot fired, no telling where from,
we colonists faced death clothed in red cloth, no blood - not yet.
chilled we remained, starin down the barrels of our adversary.
Dead.
The body positioned next to mine falls, sillent and stained.
Was he farmer? Neighbor, brother, friend?
His face; didnt matter. His name; didnt matter.
It was American blood; spilled, foretelling many deaths yet to come.
Niether triumph nor defeat did we possess; the war had just begun.
Submission date : 2008-08-16
Visits : 764
Votes : 0
Rating : 0.0
A POETRY COMMUNITY
POEMS