Were you mine? – a poem inspired by my great uncle
Strangers. They’re all staring at me...
Strangers. They’re all staring at me.
Sat in a gown, being fed by her.
The nurse comforts me, despite us being strangers.
Why does she hold my hand? Why does she call me dear?
Then a moment of clarity, my wife is sat there smiling at me.
But her eyes aren’t young anymore,
Her eyes are a storm of pain
She reaches out to hold my hand; we’re at our wedding again.
My gown is now a suit; my affection grows and bursts with kisses
Her startled look makes me feel sick.
Is she mine?
Was she mine?
There has been a ceasefire in the war against myself.
But the church walls have to crumble,
And the trenches are rebuilt,
I’m at home, yet I am lost
I let go of her hand and sit back into my cage
Strangers.
Submitted by: Grace, 13
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