Nov 2020
Which one is he?
He’s the one that asks for the table by the wall where he can see all the exits.
He’s the one who holds your hand slightly behind him and positions himself between you and the joggers in the park who might threaten your life.
He’s the one who holds his cigarette with the ember cupped in his hand - maintaining light discipline even standing outside the mall.
He’s the one that cleans his plate when you cook for him because he knows what it’s like to live on MREs and ibuprofen.
He’s the one with the smile that never reaches his eyes - the pain that never leaves his soul.
He’s the one that came back to you only in the physical form - who’s mind is still in the field with his brothers.
Don’t ask which one he is - because if you can’t tell - you will never know. The mark is in his flesh - and in the eyes that see the ugly world the way it is, so you don’t have to.
He’s the one that asks for the table by the wall where he can see all the exits.
He’s the one who holds your hand slightly behind him and positions himself between you and the joggers in the park who might threaten your life.
He’s the one who holds his cigarette with the ember cupped in his hand - maintaining light discipline even standing outside the mall.
He’s the one that cleans his plate when you cook for him because he knows what it’s like to live on MREs and ibuprofen.
He’s the one with the smile that never reaches his eyes - the pain that never leaves his soul.
He’s the one that came back to you only in the physical form - who’s mind is still in the field with his brothers.
Don’t ask which one he is - because if you can’t tell - you will never know. The mark is in his flesh - and in the eyes that see the ugly world the way it is, so you don’t have to.
