David H.

Soldiers And Politicians

He wakes up to the sounds of explosions,
        I wake up to the sound of an alarm clock.
He struggles to get out of his tent in time,
        I struggle to get of my mattress in time.
He goes a day without eating breakfast,
        I go through breakfast without enjoying my second cup of coffee.
He dashes to his vehicle before they leave him behind,
        I dash for the 8:30 bus before I have to wait for the 8:50 bus.

He works in foreign lands,
        I work at my handpicked mahogany desk.
He watches faces lost of hope lining his patrol route,
        I watch faces of disapproval lining the benches of the room.
He closes his eyes and pulls a trigger,
        I open my eyes and shout in opposition.
He watches buildings come crashing down,
        I watch papers being crumples in fists.

He goes and makes a new camp,
        I go back to my home.
He wants to take a shower,
        I like the water run five minutes before I step into the tub.
He tries to sleep,
        I stay up and watch the news.
He is making the news,
        I criticize the news.

He fights in a way because he has to protect,
        I can fight in a room because I'm protected by him.
He is a soldier,
        I am just a politician.


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.