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X. Round Table Reading Lounge > Poem - "Make It Through Today"

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message 1: by Jim (last edited Jul 19, 2014 10:04AM) (new)

Jim Vuksic | 1227 comments Make It Through Today

We fight in a land that's filled with sorrow.
We bag our dead, then we march away.
We do not worry about tomorrow.
We just hope to make it through today.

Back at the basecamp, I fool with the guys;
But I never learn their names too well.
Because today, though we fight together,
By tomorrow, some of us will be in hell.

I pick up a pen and I write a letter.
I write: "Dear Mom, I'm doing fine.
So please don't worry. Things couldn't be better.
Then I grab my weapon to defend the line.


message 2: by R. (new)

R. (rholland) | 102 comments Jim wrote: "Make It Through Today

We fight in a land that's filled with sorrow.
We bag our dead, then we march away.
We do not worry about tomorrow.
We just hope to make it through today.

Back at the basecam..."


I love your poem, Jim. All it needs is an image and a frame.


message 3: by Jim (new)

Jim Vuksic | 1227 comments R. wrote: "Jim wrote: "Make It Through Today

We fight in a land that's filled with sorrow.
We bag our dead, then we march away.
We do not worry about tomorrow.
We just hope to make it through today.

Back at..."


Thank you, R. - I am flattered that you think so.


message 4: by Jim (new)

Jim Vuksic | 1227 comments Ms. Baer,

I consider your post to be quite a compliment, considering your formal education and experience, particular pertaining to poetry. Thank you.


message 5: by Christine (new)

Christine Hayton (ccmhayton) | 324 comments It's odd to find a poem these days that actually rhymes, despite the serious theme it is a joy to read. Well done and thank you.


message 6: by Jim (last edited Jul 20, 2014 06:42PM) (new)

Jim Vuksic | 1227 comments Christine wrote: "It's odd to find a poem these days that actually rhymes, despite the serious theme it is a joy to read. Well done and thank you."

Christine,

Thank you for the kind words. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

It rhymes because, when I wrote it in 1967 at the age of 19, I knew very little about poetry. Actually, I know no more about the art now than I did then.


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