His Final Breath

(This is a fictional poem)

On one terrifying day in Vietnam my friend was shot.
Most people would've been afraid to die but he was not.
I held him as he took his final breath.
It broke my heart to witness his death.
Before he died, he asked me to look after his wife and kids.
When I came home, that's exactly what I did.
I've given his family moral support over the years.
I've comforted them every time they've shed their tears.
I'm not sure if a broken heart can ever fully mend.
They lost a great father and husband and I lost my best friend.

by Randy Johnson

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.