My Eyes have been opened, to let the tears fall

I am 15 and am intersted in the Vietnam War, these pictures opened my eyes wider than before and let my tears come out. These pictures were well taken, and people must realize that these are the nice photos, I have seen pictures of Vietnamese children dead lying next to their dead parents, Or worse lying there dead all alone, by themselves. I don't think that we could possibly understand what happened to some of these children, only the survivors could tell us. These children lived a life of misery and there eyes would have been opened, wider than we could possibly imagine, to the real images of mankind. All of the wars are over power, and sadly there are still some wars in places like Afganistan, over who should control the country. You would think that all of the human suffering and all of the destruction would be enough. This is a poem I wrote when I was 14, I only used my imagination to think what the war would really be like:

                              War Is Over

Hearing the bangs,

the screams of fear,

I have to keep running,

I shed a tear.

I felt a nip searing,

the back of my leg,

I dropped to the ground,

I though I was dead.

The pain was still there,

I sighed with relief,

My eyes looked back,

in disbelief.

The thump of heavy boots,

came nearer and nearer,

a gun to my back,

I felt the bearer.

Praying for Life ,

I was told to stand,

play dead play dead,

but I raised a hand.

Turning around,

looking face to face,

a young man stood,

feeling out of place.

I knew that a killing,

wouldn't occur,

this boy still had the eyes,

of a youngster.

He was looking down,

to scared to make the move,

his finger clenching the trigger,

right on the groove.

His finger moved slowly,

away from the gun,

a tear to his eye,

he wanted to run.

The facial expression,

I have seen it before,

then I remebered,

I wore it in my first war.

I reached out my hand,

to comfort him with joy,

but a shot rang out,

killing this young boy.

I screamed in anger,

the last shot was sound,

the war was over,

I fell to the ground.

By E.Macdonald 15