A soldier in big
boots,
Belt, and knapsack;
Quickly forgetting
And seldom
sorrowful,
Forever pressing on
Under the wide night sky.
Are
not his twenty summers there?
The pure fragrance of the water
And
the melody of the wind;
We loved them dearly,
And the image of
those days
Still makes my heart pause
In its beating.
A
little soldier and a clear voice,
And if anyone were to caress
him
He would hardly understand,
This little soldier with the
big boots
And the shut heart,
Who marches because he is wearing
big boots,
And has forgotten all else but marching.
this is a poem i wrote during english class...we're reading this book called "All Quiet on the Western Front," and its basically about war, and...its really gory at times, and also really sad... . aaanyway, what we had to do was write a "Found Poem." which means that basically, you look through the book, steal lines from it without any alteration, and put them together in a way that makes it look pretty. and we only had fifteen minutes to do it. enjoy.
