I am a broken soul,
Who can not find a home.
I am on the outside of the outside,
Looking in and laughing at the daft and fortunate.
I can not show weakness,
For I am seen as a constant strength in the experiment of life.
I have been through a war not many know of,
And with it over and my armor gone I am left with nothing.
I tried to start a new life,
With a quarter of my life gone.
I am like a veteran who has PDSD,
Except I have to keep it to myself and receive no help.
I find that rarely my broken soul can be seen,
By those who did not know me before the war.
I am the only one who can heal me,
Though I do not know how.
I have come to a conclusion that I will always be broken,
However that does not mean that I can not try to be happy too.
I am a broken soul,
Who hopes to one day find a home.