MTcc33

With a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection. The struggles that plague me, though none may know, Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest. Though the silence continues to press upon me, Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate. Still I find comfort in whispering secrets, If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink... -Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012

He does not fight for the General barking orders, Nor for the man in a suit, who sent him across borders... In his pocket he keeps a single picture, a sole reminder Like ancient scripture. A home he misses so endlessly, Tirelessly calling out in his dreams at night. It is the last That remains on his lips, with his finger pressed upon the trigger. A single heartbeat, as he sights his enemy; A quiet prayer To rest in peace. Yet soon it fades, as hope is fleeting; For the little soldier boy, once marching home.  "Bottoms up buddy, I miss you..." -Chen Yuan Wen, 18th October 2012