A Poem by Devlin De La Chapa

Plowing through the fields of life
we lived the last of our best days
at war’s end, and though I realize
you have always been my brother
I never thought of you as my friend,

. . .amidst today.

So I will take these instances of regret
and etch them like a eulogy in a gravestone,
my dying heart, it hurts to depart
from this life we fought in together, and
to never repeat itself, we shall die in poetic infamy.

So, until we meet again,

take care, and

journey well. . .my friend.

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