Most days its just me against the world...
Most days All i ever get is a cold response...
A cold shoulder.. Your high again.......
A cold house... I can make it warm.....
A cold supper... It was my fault....
But most days everyone asks me for a little extra....
At most the only thing they want will cause my discomfort....
Most days I just agree...        
Because its the same as everyday....
I control an army that is mostly expendable.....
With soldiers called Sanity... Hope... Health.....
They mean nothing to no one....
But every night i nurse the wounds...
Of soldiers who only serve the needs of others.....
And the days they dont have to fight....
They are told not to talk too much...
To never say that they are tired...
That they too are something..
They belong to someone.....
No they are simply a disposable front line...
In a battle they must win for the love of their homeland.....
Oh home... They are forgetting that place...
Sometimes they hide in bars.....
Or in plain sight shellshocked from a continued battle....
Nobody cares its what they signed up for...
When they leave there is no longer a girl.... A family... No that is not the goal....
They are just in trenches against odds not in their favor....
Where the enemy is always getting new weapons.....
They learnt how to hide... To strike and hurt innocents....
After all collaterall damage is part of war.....
But as they look n there wake only burnt bridges that led to hope....
Crying children... Maybe they lost their goal..... Sometimes they shake from fatigue... Fear.....
Then its time to get a jolt from chemical not suited for them....
But its viewed as a want.... Never a need.....
I wish there was another way....
Sometimes a soldier goes AWOL...
The others stand in... A force of maniacs....
They just do what it takes to cover the ones who left....
With little care for anyone but themselves....
I dont control that army...
They call themselves Anger, Pain, sadness....
All under a warlord who neither cares or remembers....
He calls himself Addiction....
My army is able to fight them...
Even tho they are outgunned and wounded....
They are strong and run towards certain death.....
Holding pictures of a better time..
A picture of the woman they loved...
She is now only a memeory.....
A song.... A tune everyone tells them is offensive...
A belief.... That once they are victorious....
They might be taken serious....
And promoted from corporals... To seargeants.....
To lead a peaceful rebellion...
They no longer want war...
They want a truce with an enemy...
They only want to go home if only for a short leave....
To tell the people they love...
They are still here.. Please dont forget them....
But each time the shells fall silent... The cities no longer burn...
A crisis.... an atomic bomb brings them back into battle....
I feel sorry for them.....
My stories of motivation are now tales...
I wouldnt believe me either...
This was always my war....
They are just old friends now...
Gray and weak.. we no longer laugh or visit....
They just do what they have learnt to do.....
A good soldier never questions...
To die for their country is just a fate.....
I can only hope as each one dies...
I can hold them for at least a moment...
To thank them.....
To let them know i remember them....
How glorious they once were...
We thought we would own the world.....
Now each day im writing letters to memories....
Im soory to inform you..... They will be greatly missed....
I am sad these were great soldiers... But at least I know as they are killed....
It wont be long till I go.....
If I lose to the other force.... Heavan help everyone I care for.....
They will destroy them...
But another morning... Another battle....
Maybe today is the day...
When they get to go home... They get to feel loved to be cared for...
But i dust off their helmets and they head back out to battle.....
I dont have the heart to tell them...
I know we are gonna lose...
Its never been a war I believed they could win.....