Poetry

A Helping Hand

By 1st January 2006December 9th, 2019No Comments

Blinking faintly just a spot
a distant light or maybe not
Is it them come back for more
or is it mates in teams of four

I crawl a bit to hide my form
and nearer still the light comes on
Nearer yet to me it gets
I check my rifle prepare for threat

Then quietly a voice I hear
“come on son, have no fear”
A friendly voice thank god for that
I prepare to move from where I’m sat

The voice gets nearer almost here
I know I’m saved I lose my fear
I see a person just ahead
ready to move (my legs feel dead)

Now I see him now he’s here
his face I know but still I peer
“I came to get you don’t be scared
your job is done, you’ve been spared”

I take his hand my legs now work
I stand beside him and start to smirk
I see some others coming through
there’s old man Stan and Connor too

And as I walk with him a while
I see more mates and start to smile
But all these mates weren’t they dead?
Have I been injured lost my head?

How obvious it soon became
Mohamed, Allah, Christ (just names)
Standing there with all my squad
The hand I took was that of God

Mac

Author Mac

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