Dear Mother

I shot another man today.
With a bullet a sent him on his way.
I went numb a thousand men ago.
Their faces haunt me when I try to sleep.
soldier that’s my occupation
A soldier Boy sending boys like me to their graves.
Lord have Mercy on the soul of this soldier boy.

The dawn cracks as the majestic artillery ceases its roar.
I sit in a trench that once sustained life.
A boy in men’s clothes, watching and waiting.
The whistle sounds that puts my heart in my throat, as fear rolls across my body.
I climb the 20 foot ladder in seconds, over the top rifle at the ready.
I’ll do my part for king and country.
As I look across the writhing and moaning muddy hell.
The barking of machine guns reach my ears.
With the sound of steel bees whizzing past my head I run past the barbed wire nest that protects our trench.
As I sprint with a scream in my voice, a fear in my heart and heroics running through my brain.
I see the enemy close yet a 1000 miles away.
Suddenly the world goes quiet, slows, my legs fail and I fall to the embrace of the mud.
Another lost son to the heavenly hell of Passchendaele

Whether you look deep from the iris
You will not find the truth in vague photographs
The sound of the past still haunts dreams

The battlefield takes life without exception
Even those who do not desire it must ******
The sound of guns embrace all
Another bystander, I mustn’t walk this way

I couldn’t be a soldier no matter how courageous
On the inside I’m overcome by the fallen corpse
The act is over but the ****** scene is more clear than ever

I flee into a coffee shop
I embrace the silence by talking to myself
My soul shaking with fear from the gun in my grasp

The server brought coffee without sugar
I turned to see a dead fly in my cup
Just another confrontation with death
If only I could swallow it away

A single slat of a broken white picket fence
Where the paint is old and faded
And peeling
But it reminds me of him
And the time we spent together in the garden
Growing our family tree

A single frame of an abandoned photo gallery
Where the glass is cracked and dust-caked
And forsaken
But it reminds me of him
And the life we spent together before he was shipped off
Caring for our family tree

A single grave of a mass of forgotten soldiers
Where their names are etched in stone
And left
But it reminds me of him
And the lives he spared at the cost of his own
Saving our family tree

it’s easier to
get mad over
the mundane things
like you taking ten
seconds instead of five
to answer what chain
restaurant you want
to eat at
then to accept the
crippling pain that
i miss you even
though you’re not
yet gone.

A sailor well knows while far away from home
To slowly lower the brim of his cover
Hold fast, and swallow his pride
For to display pointless emotion
While with faithful, intended devotion
In the middle of the ******* ocean...
Can only lengthen the great and terrible divide
He hides his chagrin, well versed
Sticks out his chin, lets out a curse
And simply lets the time pass by
The burdens back home he must face alone
Because he simply cannot be at her side

The borders of insanity with every last calamity
Only strengthen his stubborn resolve
For the smile on her face can't be replaced
So tirelessly without rest he does his best
For not to allow the world around her revolve

Every mile that tries to cheapen
Her now bent oblique belief weakening
Misleading, deceiving grievances on repeat
Hours spent askance with no chance for relief
Are all accounted for and held seperate
For soon he comes back to find her
Her sad eyes a gentle reminder
And that reward has him addicted and so desperate

Don't ask him why he has no alibi ready
Why he would rather die than break down
This life at sea is rough
And unsteady enough
Without her being around

So when he flashes you that grin
Do not think it disingenuous
There's no convoluted, contorted distortion
Or disproportionate sentiment carried within
Its only the aftermath from living this life of sin

This rocking boat will clutch your throat
And bring you down on your knees
For we understand love that's torn
And know to never get too warm
Because sailors aren't born, we are forged
Within the depths of harsh winds and roiling seas

He makes dreams a reality.
For a brief moment in time.
He knows just when to visit.
Except when i miss him.
Sometimes he comes with gifts.
Which only remind me of him.
He is the most tangible imaginary friend I have.
But at least the others stick around.
He leaves when I'm asleep.
I'm left alone in my dream.
He is not someone I made up.
But I still can't see his face.
I wish he would stay.
I really do.