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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