The Wwii Bomber Mission


The blue sky envelopes me in a cool mist.
I look down at the city, complete with little people.
Gazing at my friends, we all know what we have to do.
The thick fog chokes the sunlight, allowing a thin sliver to escape.
It signifies a new beginning, and a fresh start.
However, for some of the unfortunate, this day will be their last.
As if in response to us, the plane roars louder than before.
The radio operator alerts us of the wind whipping faster than before.
We'll have to get the job done soon.
No more time for idle chit chat.
Time for action.
What if I don't wake up after this mission?
What would happen to them, after being bombed?
What did they do to deserve this?
Why do they, the innocent civilians, have to die?
Why me???
Preparing to release the bombs, a wave of emotion hits me.
Not sadness, but a strong regret for doing this fills me.
A sense of pity and empathy for the victims strikes me moments later.
I know that I will have to live with this for the rest of my life.
Barely keeping tears at bay, I unload the bomb hatch.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem