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The Shaking Sphere
“Everybody get down!” Boom! A cloud of dust covers the grounds, hopeful hearts pound as soldiers drop to escape the explosive rounds.
Young Buck pants, yearning for safety, but war is not encouraged, rather the devastating destruction of human flesh and courage.
Young Buck turns to hear orders from the general, but turns to discover blood in the mud, a horrific sight that blinds the light.
Moans and groans, gunshots and drones, “Will I be forever alone?”, Young Buck asks himself, “Will I ever make it home?”
Young Buck attempts to suddenly stand, rifle in hand, kicking the sand, preparing to dash through the Vietnamese land.
Sprinting, Young Buck does not even glance toward the rebels, all he can think is reaching a rock where he hides from the blistering bullets and avoids all the troubles.
Out of breath, “Am I near death?”, approaching what’s next and what’s best, dry mouth he dives for the west.
Young Buck with Donnie Lou, the two newest of the crew, stare into each other’s eyes expecting that the other has one idea or a few.
Nothing is said, their faces turn red, “Should we shoot, or Should we play dead?”
They close their eyes, dust specks fly by, Young Buck suddenly jumps to see a bullet whiz by.
He then rolls and rolls, the screams of death ring in the air, Young Buck looks for escape, but he can’t find anywhere.
The soldier runs for a tree, trying to flee, wondering if Donnie Lou was running too.
Boom! “Take cover!” Boom! Yells of panic and fear, no end is near, every second of conflict feels like a year.
Young Buck sits afoot the tree, staring up into the clouds, wishing that his war effort would make his family proud.
He thought of little Paul, strong as a wall, his favorite times were when they played catch with a ball.
Yankees games were tradition, before his transition, from “Daddy be calm!”, to killing in Nam.
Young Buck thought of his wife, the love of his life, his high school sweetheart in a sun dress with tights.
“Buck, should we climb?” “I think I’m losing my mind” Climb they do, prepare for a view.
Donnie Lou, blood running down his face, shaking like a leaf, full of grief, lets out a shriek.
He falls off the tree, hitting the ground dead as debris, Young Buck breaks into tears as reality mirrors his fears.
Covers his face, what a disgrace, Donnie Lou’s bloody body on the dirt while his soul races to Space.
Young Buck can’t speak, no one to call for, no help to be given, no soldier to support, no car to be driven.
“Is this the end?, is death a trend?” Boom! More explosions sound round the bend.
Young Buck springs from the tree, plummets down next to his friend’s body, face full of agony.
“How much more can I suffer?” Young Buck takes a knee, for he then places a necklace on thee.
“Donnie Lou, you meant the World to me friend” His eyes ran like rivers, was this the bitter end?
“Daddy take cover!”, it came from afar, a voice so bizarre it nearly ripped out his heart.
“Paul I am coming!”, Young Buck dashed through the dirt, his footsteps rumbled and his mind was alert.
Bang! A shot fired by gun, rippled through light from the sun, into danger Buck would run, the end had begun.
“Paul,” next came no reply, Young Buck was hit in his side, as he and the bullet collide.
“Owwww!”, a yell so loud it could hurt, piercing the winds of the desert, for Young Buck fell to the dust and turned to rust.
The hero’s journey turned out to be tragic, as Young Buck fell dead, for the voice that he heard was all in his head.
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This is a final poem I wrote for my English class. It was inspired by The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien.