As I watch my comrades fall,
I cant help but think of how lucky I am to be alive.
Blood is everywhere.
The blood of the people around me splatters across my face
And into my mouth.
I can hardly see who I'm shooting at.
The smoke is so thick
I am blinded by a cloud of toxic gray.
A cannon ball just went through a horse.
In one end
And out the other.
The poor creature crashes to the ground with a thud.
The Rebels are starting to retreat.
Or are they?
A charge of men with bayonets attack us.
We fire at them, fast as lightning.
Heavy lead bullets bury themselves in the enemies' skulls.
Hardly a single Reb is left.
And then they retreat.
Once the battle is over, I am glad we had a hill,
Glad we had the advantage.
Glad I survived the first Battle of Gettysburg.
Kylee Bartz
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/american-civil-war/
