(A Poem Inspired by Remarque’s
All Quiet on the Western Front)
We carry the world on our shoulders—
Not even strong enough to carry ourselves.
We left our world of books and dreams;
We placed them on the shelves.
The sound of broken, worn-out voices
Put plastic images into our eyes.
Everything that we have prayed for
Evaporates into the sky.
Our youth means nothing to us now—
It has become dented, torn, cracked
The last years of our childhood, gone—
We cannot have them back.
We do not know why we are here;
We do not know these men,
But the orders that we are given
Convince us we should shoot again.
Our mothers long to see us;
They share our grief and pain;
But when we go back home again,
Things will never be the same.
The sky it shimmers with brilliant lights
Over the spectacular voice of a friend;
But when tomorrow brings the fire,
Will we get to see him again?
We are drowning in this awful place;
We sink deeper every day—
Attempting to come close to the surface
As it slowly fades away.
