| Survival |  |
| I drifted all night and was loosing my hope
Before by the moon's light I saw dry land.
I floated over and through its reefs to the beach,
Where I quickly smoothed out my tracks in the sand.
All I had was my dagger and a canteen
And it was May 4th of 43.
Just me alone on an enemy island,
Wasn't a safe place for a sailor to be.
I felt I could kill in less than a heartbeat
If that's what it took for me to survive.
I'd already said thanks so many times,
For" God" was the reason I was alive.
Off in the dark, I herd two men's voices,
Laughing and talking in a language not mine.
Inch by inch I crept to their campsite,
Where on what they were eating, I would soon dine.
I stabbed them both and took their fish, rice and wine;
Then ran my way back to the raft by the beach.
Soon I was floating in the ocean again
And far enough out where bullets couldn't reach.
The next day I was picked up by a seaplane,
Whose crew spotted my sail from the air.
Once inside and safe, I cried like a child,
For the dead whom would forever be there.
It was hard to believe heaven let me live;
A farm boy from Kansas, in high school last year.
My girlfriend is blond and she hates it I 'm gone.
Though I'm a veteran of battle, death, and fear. | By Tom Zart
Copyright 2000
Listed May 2, 2007
Tom Zart's site |
It is illegal to use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to Tom. ~~ |
