Joey

 

“And I don’t have to be that person”

I heard you say

Perhaps reaching;

Hopes to get through the day.

I believed your words,

And now you’re dead

Your pain resonates,

Still, and all you said.

 

The musings of God weren’t enough to prevail,

To pull the battle from the soldier,

Would take a hurricane force gale.

They set you “free”

Or so they said,

Did they even care

In a year you’d be dead?

I picture you in Iraq

Crouched, readied; dust and dirt

Pointing a gun another

How could that not hurt?

 

 

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