The Struggling Soldier

The struggling soldier is horrifically tragic.
But to survive is truly magic.
To teach your son to ride a bike.
Is so much better than being impaled with a spike.
Leaving your family with no goodbye.
I have to get back or at least try.
How I have survived it baffles me.
But to succeed I had to hide in a tree.
Hours went by, the Germans seeking.
Through the thick branches I was peeking.
To hear my comrades scream in terror.
My plan to escape must go without error.
Dashing, leaping, and searching.
Through the layered forest I shall camp.
With only a flickering lamp.
To get lost would be a nightmare.
But worse would be to leave without a care.
I reached the town and my family late.
But found they had met their fate.
Their bodies drenched in blood of their own.
The killer beside them a German stone.
It laid beside the un slept beds.
The stone had been smashed against their heavy heads.
By Catherine Frank