The Warrior

The Warrior prose poem

Photo by hans s

I am a warrior,

fighting the battles

of life’s challenges,

tripping over the cracks

on the sidewalks,

drinking cold coffee,

listening to sad songs,

working on taxes,

calling in borderline sick,

and driving the combative zone

of rush-hour traffic,

what seems so important now

will eventually become faded

pictures found in a family album

whose dusty covers are a reminder

that warriors are not immortal.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Sonia Walker

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I have been writing poetry,short stories and articles for 32 years. Enjoy sharing my writing with family, friends and anyone else who wants to listen. Writing is an expressive outlet for me. Much of my poems, etc. have been published in the small presses over the years.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

Klonopin Warrior

Klonopin Warrior short poem

Drifting away with the evening breeze yesterday’s happiness tends to disappear I watch myself in the mirror, and know the Klonopin warrior comes to the rescue It´s a mask that covers my tears just take it and hold it into

The Warrior Within

The Warrior Within long poem

Long since the time has gone.. and the world has lost its meaning.. I wander in the noisy crowd surrounded by the silence.. With the mind that follows the brainless acts and the heart that’s low on blood.. I feel

The Warrior

The Warrior short poem

Sometimes we picturize everything so clearly So vividly imagined, that if things went way afar from what we pictured we lose touch with reality We believe that everything is going the way we pictured We believe it even if it

Tragic Warrior

Tragic Warrior short poem

The gentle wind blows away the blood of my face A battle that never ends , tears that never dry Gently walking over the field of stained flowers Looking up to the sky, even the sky cries Even the blue

The Moonlight Warrior

The Moonlight Warrior short poem

Darkness shrouds the dying day, turning everything still but the shadows, growing they are now the undead, gliding towards altars for their daily prey. The silence is just a blindfold, the night but an illusion, things unheard best left unsaid,