A Story by Coyote Poetry

A sad poem. We need more friends. More kindness.


Young black man.
22 year old.
He sat alone and ate alone in the mess hall for many days.
I watched him and wondered why?

I knew great pain and understood his face and eyes.

I started to sit with him.
He said nothing for many meals.
Other Soldiers said he was crazy.

One morning at breakfast.
He looked at my eyes direct.
He told me.
"Some of the poor men were still alive at Death valley. They were still breathing.
Pieces of bodies speaking in a foreign language. I held so many of them. All I could do is listen."

His eyes filled with tears. He asked me.
"Was there any purpose for this war?"

I looked at his sad eyes. I told him.
"You did all you could. Mercy of someone hearing your last words allow the poor men to move to the next place with the vision a kind heart. Not the bloody s**t of war."

He got very quiet for a time. He whispered.
"All I see is death and blood in my dreams. I can't see any good in my life now. What can I do?'"

 I took him to Virginia beach. Not many people in the late months of winter.
I made him drink many long Island ice teas.
We drank till we could barely see anymore.

We wandered down to the Virginia shoreline.
He watched the Atlantic dance on the shore.

He turned to me. Asked me? "What the f**k are you trying to do to me?
Why don't you leave me alone?

I passed the whiskey to him.
I told him. "We have been lied to. No-body care if people live or die. We were just mercenaries for money and oil. Let's scream to the Gods. Lets scream into the wind. Tell the world to f-off. Then maybe we can find the mercy to forgive ourselves."

He gave me a big smile. Told me. "You are damn crazy."

He stood up and started to run down the ghostly night beach.
Screaming and crying.
He ran into the sea.
Yelling 'kill me, end my bloody life."

I swear I saw someone with him.
I tossed my wallet to the sand.
I went into the cold sea to get him.
He was waiting for me.

I wrapped my arms around him.
He smiles and told me. "I'm Okay.
I know I must forgive myself.

He turned and looked me in the eyes.
He whispered. "Thank you for the mercy of your friendship. No-one came when I was alone and afraid. I prayed for forgiveness. You forced me to face my life."

He looked at the morning sun rising from the east. Told me. "I'm done with the Army. I won't touch a gun or hurt another person."

A month later at the Greyhound bus station he was going home. I went to shake his hand. He grabbed me and gave me a bear hug. Kissed my forehead. He told me.
"Mama will heal me with her love. Baby sister will insure I'm alright. And I remember your face and what you gave me.  You gave mercy to a man in need."


© 2014 Coyote Poetry

Author's Note

Coyote Poetry
Some stories reappear. This is a real story. War leave no winners. Just living casualty of what was done and must be learned to live with.

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Featured Review

I vision the day, when two armies go to battle on the ground.
They drop their weapons and, mix themselves and be seated on the ground.
Anything they send from overhead to punish them all can only be done so many times.

Somewhere in the depth of man we finally say ENOUGH. When we finally see we serve each other and not divided nations,Man must come forth to man and not under a false umbrella of rule.

When we know our true strength and awake. There will be peace on earth.

Posted 8 Years Ago

2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

8 Years Ago

I hope one day we can find peace. Soldiers, poor people in the way of war pay the price. The great c.. read more

8 Years Ago

I heard that was done, however certain ones put up blocks barricades and cut off roads so it couldn'.. read more


What cruel and savage things are we, who would so readily destroy that which we love so dear, ourselves!?

Wonderful sentiment in this piece, sad but poignant.


Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

War sucks! When these men and women come home from the war there's no one to help them get back to civilization. They're still stuck with the ghosts from the things they've seen at the war. There should be programs to help the men and women along with their families, families don't know what to expect when soldiers come home. Thank God for soldiers like you, I salute you. God Bless!

Excellent story Coyote, this one really hit home.

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

To me, it's more of a story than a poem. But anyway, I love this so much, even though there are problems with the grammar at places, but it's not like I'm counting. I like the general theme about what happens to people after war. I agree with you, war leaves no winners, the truest, most honest thing ever, and yet we still grab a gun to kill those who shouldn't even be involved in the arguments of the leaders...
Brilliant job!

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

That's so true, wars never have a winner or someone get happiness.
A nice poem, love this.

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I agree with Ed they train to Kill but not survive . you have shown the greatest power of healing is friendship ~ true friendship ~ a hand that cares ..

You did well ~

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

they (we) send them to war not thinking what it does to them, and the legacy we all must live with...these things don't and won't go away, until the last farthing is paid, but i know you know this, my friend

Posted 11 Years Ago

2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

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186 Reviews
Shelved in 17 Libraries
Added on September 21, 2010
Last Updated on April 1, 2014


Coyote Poetry
Coyote Poetry


A Poet and writer who love to read and write. My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life. Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words. Remember .. more..


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