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#oif
a twisty verbiage, but stop! it is not cutesy or frivolous, but an awed respect, for that fact; the complexity of the monumental is the sum of: the bricks, the letters, the words, the lines, the stanza and of course, the spaces in between that makes simple so **** complex
0
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 4:22 PM UTC
fill our eyes with the complexity of the simple
i am tired of fighting, i am too old, i’ve seen too much i am throwing down my weapon, i surrender, **** me if you must have blood i don’t care anymore, i don’t remember what i am fighting for, i just want to go home. put this war behind me, live to love, not to **** not to die, for what purpose, for what god. who will commemorate our battles, and those who have died just yesterday who will remember our names, aspiration, dreams once we are dead we are disposable, born to **** then die, who cares, why care, we served your purpose we are the pawns, expected to die for the greater good that we can not have look at your lives, was it worth it, how do you honor Them, those who died, so you can live
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Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
pawns of war: brother father son
i look out into dark, savoring the quiet, the stillness of new dawn, wondering who die today, whose life will end and whose will change forever, sending a shock of wave of pain and grief from an epicenter of a dead soldier who will die today, whose mother wife daughter will cry today, whose father son brother will fall today the sun has risen, reality has set in, its time to ride, its time for some to die, we roll the dice, who will land snake eyes to sit in the humvee, knowing you are playing russian roulette, you can’t  have hope, no inkling of a dream, lose the desire, it is the only way to survive, knowing you may die, give up all hope, consider yourself dead, be grateful at the end of the day when you are not. the drive down suicide alley, like the walk up gallow’s stairs. now i know how they felt. you surrender to fate. you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you go numb. no longer in control, my life is no longer mine to live or die i don’t believe in You, not since i was a boy, but i pray, that if we hit an IED, that i die instantaneously. i don’t want to lay on the ground, feeling the horror of dying, crying that i want to live, screaming out for my mother like i’ve seen happen to other guys there are things worse than death, the living hell of coming home in pieces, physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, spiritually disillusioned, which slowly erodes and destroys your life. a new war, another battle, this time at home, fought in your head. the cycle of trauma 6-9-12, addiction, depression, how long do you let yourself free fall till you hit rock bottom i am a man, i am not suppose to be afraid, but i am, i can’t show or say, not to them, especially not to you. i am not allowed to show fear, be vulnerable, you will lose respect, stop loving me, tell me to man up, in some subtle way when everyone has left, everything lost, when the pain is greater than the fear. you must, you will, reach out, or die in combat, killed in action, in the war fought in your mind.
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Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 5:13 PM UTC
soldier’s fear
i look out into dark, savoring the quiet, the stillness of new dawn, wondering who die today, whose life will end and whose will change forever, sending a shock of wave of pain and grief from an epicenter of a dead soldier who will die today, whose mother wife daughter will cry today, whose father son brother will fall today the sun has risen, reality has set in, its time to ride, its time for some to die, we roll the dice, who will land snake eyes to sit in the humvee, knowing you are playing russian roulette, you can’t  have hope, no inkling of a dream, lose the desire, it is the only way to survive, knowing you may die, give up all hope, consider yourself dead, be grateful at the end of the day when you are not. the drive down suicide alley, like the walk up gallow’s stairs. now i know how they felt. you surrender to fate. you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you go numb. no longer in control, my life is no longer mine to live or die i don’t believe in You, not since i was a boy, but i pray, that if we hit an IED, that i die instantaneously. i don’t want to lay on the ground, feeling the horror of dying, crying that i want to live, screaming out for my mother like i’ve seen happen to other guys there are things worse than death, the living hell of coming home in pieces, physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, spiritually disillusioned, which slowly erodes and destroys your life. a new war, another battle, this time at home, fought in your head. the cycle of trauma 6-9-12, addiction, depression, how long do you let yourself free fall till you hit rock bottom i am a man, i am not suppose to be afraid, but i am, i can’t show or say, not to them, especially not to you. i am not allowed to show fear, be vulnerable, you will lose respect, stop loving me, tell me to man up, in some subtle way when everyone has left, everything lost, when the pain is greater than the fear. you must, you will, reach out, or die in combat, killed in action, in the war fought in your mind.
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9
I put on my old boots today In the leather the sands of the desert ground in deep I close my eyes and sigh as the taste Brings back memories I'd rather not keep Gunmetal black across my back The crash of thunder, so I thought But when the sky did not turn black And weep with the tears that the thunder had wrought And the sirens screamed And they still invade dreams And I fell to my knees As I watched my friend bleed On the scorching concrete I became someone else My family saw right away But I've never told them What happened that day I keep it locked in A payment for past sins As I try to begin Feeling normal again But who knows when Or if Or how To forget
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Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
Mocking the Thunder