Paper Soldier
by
Walter Jones
(Age: 63)
copyright 05-26-2008
Age Rating: 10 to 127
You are the tears I write, as day burns so ever-brite
In webs of heated street
We weep
For one of two a passion strays to better yesterdays
Love was the stay
For family
In need
Crimple paper stayed passed a table set with love
I turned your eyes to the sky
Warmth withers
Just goodbye
My ghost works its way down a road of no return
As sleep pulls hard on the remands of love lingering
Soft as words playing on roe of timber soft
Laughter rolls across a purple lie
Sow a rebel in whiskey words sleeping
Rabbits pull lion sleeping with lamb
Ever crest leads shallow graves
Saves of flowers and stones
Songs fife and drum play wisdom
Rent plays special dreams in date
Trails of rails practice silence fate
One-sided review of lost seen
Lost shades color mental rated sleep
Reap warrior souls send road clear
Peer deep into night-lights creeping
Still penetrates last steps shadow
Ghost stands alone with lonely love grows past death's wish
Sound forgets value and images
Fade away stay now in hearts owned
Youth tripped and fails sorrow
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Yes, Sir, the paper soldiers do perpetuate the war never to end but to give it more passion and support. We don't win or lose but we definitely fan the flames.
I got very deeply involved in your imagery.
It is perfect and highly meaningful.
Bless you
Rajasir
And yet we send them out, every day, our paper soldiers, searching for forgiveness and immortality. But if we're fortunate, the words being carried will touch one or two, then find a final resting place next all the other paper soldiers dead. How many words, now, are forever gone, their immortality shorn, their forgiveness but short-lived, as conquering armies could not abide the truth and sought to achieve their own forgiveness and immortality by destroying the words being carried into battle by all the paper soldiers of the world.
A thought, motivated by your write, on this our Memorial Day.