The Betrayer Poem by Amelie Ison

The Betrayer

Rating: 5.0

He stands in the corner, watching me:
His eyes are red like blood
And he bears no name, rank, or identity—
His skin is faded pale
As if he has been drained of all soul.
The white square upon his breast
(A surrogate for where once laid a heart)
Is the last innocent part of him—
His body smeared with blood and dirt.
When he was inevitably pierced with holes,
His body was fed to the worms
To be remembered no more.
Now, even he doesn't know his true self,
And his eyes are bloodshot red
To match the life that's left
And reflect the anger underneath his ruined frame.
For now, I watch him back
To remind him that I will always believe him:
Though even I could not tell him
Who he once was.

Sunday, July 14, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: war,world war i,death,blood,shooting,forget,remembrance,injustice,soldier
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Wrote this poem several days ago now (on my birthday) but was a bit scared to publish it on here. In the end, however, I realised I really didn't care. My poem is about the soldiers who were executed by firing squad in WW1 (or the men who were shot at dawn, if you will) . The title 'The Betrayer' was chosen for its irony as I rather feel the opposite about these soldiers (as does the speaker about this particular soldier in the poem) . However, at the time, by most people, these soldiers would have been regarded as disgraces who had betrayed their country. Also, the fact that the soldier in the poem 'bears no name, rank, or identity' is a reference to the fact that these soldiers would have had an unmarked grave. Thank you for reading my poem.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kevin Hulme 15 July 2024

It's important to remember these people. Well said.

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