It is not like the stories you once read

those men did not once show their ache

you did not think how much you soon bled

you held on, no matter how much to take

although you hid it, it was not once fake

you did it for them, the ones you care for

for them you suffered, did it for their sake

throughout it all strange habits it bore

home life it took too, kindredships it tore

as things seemed as if they would be forever

you returned to find away it did soar

without warning it became easier

and now you are left there now its all fine

perhaps it will all heal, all in due time