PTSD

Bloodshot eye, wounded in the thigh   doesn't cry

                                                             Just a normal day under the Helmand sky.

Oxy proxy     war in my head   night terrors in bed

                                                                        I am long dead.

Tick tock 3'o clock   glock   knock knock   door

                                                                     Gunshot roar   brains on the floor.

Marine no longer sane   lame   open vein

                                                           life goes on the same.

Pressure plate    too late

                                 His son was eight.

Wedding ring  uncomprehending  mood swing

                                                                 Life ending.

White rocka n vodka   knocka down the door        

                                                                Lifeless on the floor      

                                                                             Broken heart evermore.

Paranoid  unemployed  life void 

                                            rather be deployed.

22 veterens commit sucide everyday. You will never understand them or what they went through. However, you can give them your patience and uncondtional love.

--Semper Fidelis--

 

 

                                                   

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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