Missing you
comes in waves.
I feel mellow,
I feel a rush; hitting me like a tsunami.
Nothing is ever consistent with you;
and won't be it seems
(just like the sea.)

How is it I feel the way I do?
Living in this generation often leaves me quite confused, broken, bruised.

Let it be not that which you may believe.
Step aside the actions and reset what you perceive.
Grieve not about that which you verily have grieved.
Take a hit, be SURE to dodge the next. Duck and weave. Duck and weave.

The story is never written,
A narrative never told.
          The old lined paper
                 Kempt by metal fingers,
A face wrinkled with use;
        Scarred-- with gray tributes,
Slashed with gaudy limelight.
Serrations of effect,
          Course by course
Delineation of subjects.
       180 men strong -
standing at attention.
Hundreds of guns--
               Straight and narrow:
       Waiting for the charge,
Muzzle-flash discharge.
Three identical wounds,
                  Inflicted on the men;
                  Identity branded skin.