Doing Whats Rightfully Wrong Poem by Marisa Eutsler

They talked of Bravery and choice
Seeped out into the forbidden
I could hear the sadness in their voice
But I pretended as if it were hidden.

Walked on down to the sign up sheets
Wrote my name on the line
I heard the sound of the soldier’s feet
As if it were a sign

As the day had come
To serve my founding fathers
Warned me did some
As I kissed my wife and daughters.

“Ill be back, ” said I with a grin
They waved goodbye as the trucks pulled away
The old man spoke of great sin
He told me I should stay.

The morning had arrived
Couldn’t stand the stench
I prayed I’d survive
And got down into my trench.

Bullets flew through the air
Bodies lay close to my leg
I tried hard not to stare
His head cracked like an egg.

The sight I’m gazing upon
Is not at all what I had thought?
Still killing past the dawn
Leave the enemy there to rot.

The conditions are so poor
Massacred was my friend Ben
I shot out with hate and swore
And called for the corpsmen.

He died right there in my arm
I cried out to the sky
Panicked and flung about in alarm
Why did I let him die?


We charged on with fury
And sang our troop song
Now the soldiers are in a hurry
Doing what’s rightfully wrong.