Remembering

This poem has no title. I wrote it when I was twelve or thirteen years old.

The moon shone bright in full glory on midsummer night's eve
Stars lit up the sky, far too numerous to believe
And I wore a painful smile
My heart was torn in two
The soldiers marched mile after mile
Leaving a dust cloud and a marred image of you
I heard your voice call my name
And turned only to glimpse a fleeting dove
I fell to my knees
Tears streamed down my face
Now I am wet, cold, and alone.