Grave Poems of Spoon Island: Hiram Bates

Life has a way of playing the vilest of tricks,
Or, providing an evener, some might say.
I, who did not want to go to war,
Seeing the senselessness of it,
Stayed at home to work the farm -
While my brothers, each in their turn, answered the call.
“One son,” they said, “safe and sound, away from harm”
But I fell under the tractor wheels and lost both legs
While my brothers came away from Passchendaele  unscathed
Many years I lay in bed at night and many more right here
Thinking how odd life is, and the people in it
And of the dozen pairs of socks
I got every Christmas 'till I died
Life’s like that, in’it?


Inspired by the book "Spoon River Anthology" by Edgar Lee Masters. These poems have been crafted by me under the title "Grave Poems of Spoon Island".

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