The telephone rings and I answer.
Impending sense of tension, nervousness and saddness all day.
Waiting for the whistle.
Premonition comes true.
There, that voice out of the blue !
Accusing voice.
Dereliction of duty.
The first barrage of shots are fired.
Your guts churn. God I’m tired !
Just lay me down to die.
A wreath to remember me by.
Why twist the bayonet ?
Oh ! Just to make sure of the kill.
To justify the initial unprovoked attack.
From years back.
Enemy from within.
I’ve exorcised you now.
The strong and good die only once and young.
The weak and misguided die and die and die again.
Ok. I’ll see the kids before Christmas, then !
Roger. P. Read.
Amended for 11.11.2018
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Yes. Its that last line that provides the twist that puts the rest of the poem in perspective. Nice idea.