Am I allowed to see
you smile one last time,
the ghost of you is still
so pretty in my mind.
Do you mind if I say it,
your love was war,
but it was my favourite
so I keep the bloodied bandages.
The care package changed hands
I am a letter in a book of pages
I now fight a different war
but much doesn't really change.
The rainbow behind your eyes faded
I remember every one of your eye colours
and how they persistently persuaded
me to hold live ammunition to my chest.
The artillery remnants
scattered across the soils
I stand in line at remembrance
holding sepia stained photographs.

**I am fighting a different war,
one that is worth fighting for.