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My Bullet

Forgive me please, my sins, I beg, for I

Am not the glorious hero that they claim;

For I am one who dares to reason why.


They spoke of honour, courage, do-or-die;

They showed me how to shoot, to kill, to maim.

Forgive me please, my sins, I beg, for I


Am no brave lion, no matter how I try.

Returning home I feel somehow to blame,

For I am one who dares to reason why.


The pals, we were, I see them as they lie;

Each pallid, ghoulish face without a name.

Forgive me please, my sins, I beg, for I


Now cannot look their mothers in the eye;

Shuffling along my street of shame,

For I am one who dares to reason why.


I dread those shivering nightmares when I cry

And wonder why my bullet never came.

Forgive me please, my sins, I beg, for I -

For I am one who dares to reason why.


(c) Dave Carr


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Breaking Bad for Christmas ►


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Dave Carr

Tue 2nd Dec 2014 20:30

Thanks Harry (twice) and Cynthia.
I value your comments. I am a little out of my comfort zone here but your words are very much appreciated.

With Regard to Windows 8.1 Ditch it and upgrade to Windows 10 when it comes out. They are going back to the traditional desktop, I hear.

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Harry O'Neill

Mon 1st Dec 2014 20:49

Looked at this again trying to sus out why I used the word `humbly`.

Obviously the: `not the glorious hero` bit, but I think more...the remembrance ceremonies are also solemn events but they miss out what your poem is `saying` - the sheer unreasonableness of human beings killing each other en mass. It is unusual (and humble) in sharing the guilt and pleading for forgiveness.

It expresses a universal `reasoning why` that must (should?) have been pondered after all the `bravery` stuff had died down.

I forgot to mention the alliteration and double beat on the ff`s in line fourteen, and the (ironical?) double play on `pals`.

You should be proud of this one.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 28th Nov 2014 16:19

Dave, Harry has said it all, eloquently. It is a privilege to read a good villanelle. And it is never too late for such a sentiment.

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Harry O'Neill

Fri 28th Nov 2014 16:02

In the midst of struggling with this bloody Windows 8.1 what a refresher to come upon this lovely villanelle!

It is a very true poem, which (humbly) lays bare the aftermath of our human propensity to often decide things by lethal means. It speaks about the personal (which of course is never -and cannot be - considered in times of crisis)

I particularly liked that:

`Each pallid, ghoulish face without a name`

and the sad rhythm of

`Shuffling along my street of shame`

I very fine poem indeed!

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Dave Carr

Wed 26th Nov 2014 19:37

A bit late - should have posted it earlier in the month.

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