War Photographer

movingfinger

You worry about your film,
your food, your drinking water.
You worry about snipers and
shrapnel,
As you walk under the sun, though,
Amongst people who cannot remember
A reality separate from this,
you worry about getting
that one picture that tells the
world what they need to hear.

This child is too happy, unscarred
You worry about this
Because happiness is fleeting
And as you see her through your lens
You sink in the knowledge
of what people must see.

You try to forget that these people
Live outside your lens. You try to forget
That death smells and that children die.
But you remember why you're here.
Everything drowns outside of the frame.
Already learning how to forgive yourself,
You take the picture.

ISN

it is with total awareness of the irony of what I'm saying, that I think you need to add more blood n guts to the peom, as a poet distance yourself from what you're writing, and add more blood n guts, so we begin to see all distances......the distance between us and you, the distance between you and the photographer, and the gulf between us and the dying children......let's call it perspective.....heh

EvilToasterElf

Great poem movingfinger, the ending is moving and powerful.

I think it can be touched up a little bit, unless the message board changed the line breaks which it has a tendency to do.

For instance, "the one picture that tells the
world what it needs to hear"

Probably don't want to end a line with the

But these things are menial and easily fixed, overall great work, keep them coming