"awol" poems
I have missed me
I have missed us
Things have not been the same
Maybe someone else is using our name
Some days it feels like we are hands on a clock
just going through all the motions
Other days we are never seen at all
Maybe its just our memory that answers the call
So I miss me
I miss us
Could there be anymore space between us
We are not the same
Maybe someone else is using our name
Is there still love between us
Could things go back to what they were before
Don't we deserve love too
Or do we love ourselves more
Oh how I miss me
I miss us
When we are not the same
For so long now
Someone's been using our name
Not even sure if our hearts work anymore
or if those parts have already died
Do we take a chance on love gone lost
Or just give up throw in the towel and hide
I still do miss me
As I do us
Will we ever be the same
We are trapped inside
Screaming out our name
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
"SOMETHING TO LOVE, OH, SOMETHING TO LOVE!"
Gravity had( oh hell )
gone AWOL!
Sky and earth
switched places
in an instant
his mind unable(oooOOOPS!)
to keep up with the changing
reality.
Everything had gone w h i t e
as if the world had been erased.
Then, a blackout:
as if one had one's own
private night.
He woke to find his arm
had escaped his body.
Bones( his own )
sticking out of his shirt
as if his skeleton had gone
on a day trip
to this the outside
world lord god almighty.
Then, a universe
of pain
but all he could manage
was: "Ow...that hurt!"
"Hi!" said the sky
back in its proper place.
Pain screamed
through him.
There appeared to be
an eternity of it.
"I'm off!"
he offered as a retort
slipping out the back door
of the world
leaving his body
to deal with the pain.
Adrift in a sea
of agony
he held on to
a line of poetry
"Something to love, oh, something to love!"
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
Watchin' bikinis as they stroll,
they show a lot of skin, but not much soul.
You're out of your league boy, but that's OK.
Tomorrow could be your lucky day.
And you'll find me in that sunny weather,
I'm gonna get myself together,
till my skin turns into leather,
down on the Redneck Riviera.
"4x4s" sportin' bars-n-stars.
Ball caps and tank tops, their hittin' the bars.
Tattoos gettin ********* scarin' "tourys" away.
It's alright Ma tomorrow's a beach day.
And if you ain't a "toury"
you're runnin' from your past.
FBI, DEA or maybe the IRS.
Past wives, past lives, AWOL.
Everybody knows you here, but no one will tell.
Non-com fly-boys with their Amerasian wives,
bringin' 'em to America, given 'em better lives.
Some stay together, but others will roam.
They'll hit the street for money like they did back home.
And you'll find me in that sunny weather,
I'm gonna get myself together.
Frankly Scarlet I don't give a **** about Tara.
I'm down on the Redneck Riviera.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Gates climb
News and paraphernalia
Modern communication
Internet on vacation
Today, rural Australia
Goes awol in valleys, hills
As seeking when hiding
Frustration biding
Trees, various pitfalls
An Insufficient population
Say Cannot build towers
Excuses bely hours
Trying, for connection
Work with what's known
Try cavalier solutions
It's the execution
When, creativity shown
First try computer waving
Above head I'm shaking
Signal not taking
Despite, the swaying
Next option lying on floor
Hint of access, fleeting
Patchy greeting
So slow, won't store
Then stand on top of bed
Try to reach high ceiling
Wobbly feeling
Response, still lead
Despite heat, go outside
The temperature violent
Connection silent
If Home far, just beside
Time past, similarly stung
Found access best rate
The paddock gate
Balancing, top rung
Troop to gate hopes keen
As Searing heat, metal
Stand and settle
Tightly, cradle machine
Process long, time lost
A Connection success
Finally access
But who, counts cost?
Eventually, its loaded mail
As Balancing hold keen
Humorous scene
As Sway, in light pale
Internet access by Gates
Not Bill, Steve, Microsoft
Hung steel aloft
So basic, surely debates
Climbing for a signal now
Is the practical response
Sadly ensconced
As Rural, area know how
But surely it must be time
When access essential
Internet critical
Yet today, gates climb
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Art class was a given
A bird course as they say
But, our teacher had gone awol
You could say he flew away
They found him at a campsite
Cross legged on a mat
Naked, drinking cool aid
And talking to his cat
He snapped while teaching concepts
beyond the grasp of teenage kids
Who only wanted to pass time
and be on ebay making bids
He taught them about structure
about lines and Bernard Frize
and now he's in the forest
sitting naked with the trees
Pastels, crayons and chalk sticks
littered where he sat
sitting naked, drinking kool aid
and talking to his cat
the kids, they drove him crazy
never doing what he told
Instead they sat and doodled
while the teacher...well...unrolled
they didn't draw the things he asked
didn't study all the masters
instead they were more intent
on creating art disasters
he came to class equipped one day
to show them some van gogh
instead they all got up
And told him he could blow
he snapped and left the class room
never stopping at the door
he went to his apartment
and picked the cat up off the floor
he went down to the locker
he took his tent back to the car
he was going to go camping
he wasn't going to a bar
he drove up to the campsite
made his kool aid, grabbed his cat
took his clothes off and got naked
and sat down upon his mat
this is where they found him
seven days since he walked out
he's now painting in nice place
where there's lots of staff about
most days he sits in silence
in his jacket, sleeves behind
zonked out on medication
to help him find his mind
they give him lots of kool aid
but his cat he does not see
he just paints with all his fingers
making pictures of a tree
once he was a teacher
of a bird course teaching art
now he gets all his excitement
drinking kool aid from the cart
in his mind there are da vincis
claude monets and rembrandts too
but, on paper he paints tree limbs
in black and grey and blue...
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
LOUE LABOURS WONNE
( for Kyle and Laura )
we have
as Shakespeare says
"...neglected time..."
like all lovers we
lost in the kiss
eclipsed the hours
that strive to contain
us leaving Time
to sulk
tapping a toe
waiting upon us so
the world can continue
but ha - do we care
we care - not
for the ticking of the clock
and all earthly what nots
our souls
gone AWOL
our laughter
staining the air
like music we
but away "...away
the scene begins
to cloud..."
and leave these lovers
to do without much ado
what they
will
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
The underlings stare
In submissive awestruck
Subjugation in landmine-filled
Landfills, are stuck
In the trenches, the feces
The carcass-strewn muck
Where the vermin-spawn ****
As they're taught how to work
And to fend for themselves
Like the Fall of Dunkirk
As the imminent doomsday device overhead
Incapacitates them
As mere prey to a web
Of a global dominion
Ambition connection
Subconscious hive-mind
Buzzing out the objection
And phobia-spreading
Pandemic misanthropy
Greed in disguise
Subsidizing atrocity
Not for me,
I am
The justified treason
The reason the man-hunters
Close open season
The cease-fire peacekeeper
Proliferation
The water war's rising
Desertification
An MIA runaway
AWOL defector
Still haunting the tombs of detente
Like a spectre
With what I assure
Mutually in the end
When I send go-aheads
On the ICBMs
And avenge the dependent expended
Caught in
This crossfire for-profit
Arms race it has been
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
I'm going AWOL at first light
Sherman threatens my hometown
I hate to leave Robert E. Lee
But my heart's not backing down
There's a railroad to Atlanta
I'll fight side by side with Paw
General Johnson's too outnumbered
But we'll stand at Kennesaw
I don't like to leave Virginia
But Atlanta needs me there
With my family in danger
It's a duty I must bear
I'll meet Mayde at Big Shanty
We can have some time at last
I'll get up at the crack of dawn
And kick old Sherman's ***
Now I know we're way outnumbered
They have more than two to one
And Sherman hates all rebels
He's Abe Lincoln's favorite skunk
If we could get old Stonewall
To come down for just a spell
We could kick old Abe's invaders
From Kennessaw to hell
Mayde, I'm real scared of dying
If our rebel line should fall
But I'll stand to fight **** yankees
Make 'em think they hit a wall
We own no slaves but Sherman thinks
It's rebel killin' time
So I'll shoot holes in Yankee coats
Before there's one in mine
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 5:59 AM UTC
October 1968
Strange day away from a war,
in a bubble
with the liar who was my friend
who wore a shirt with
a combat aviation badge
a dead man had earned,
first stolen glory
I ever saw.
We are awol, but nobody knows,
then a doughy white guy with a camera,
asks the liar why we are
in Saigon,
at the zoo, in the middle of a war.
A Stars and Stripes reporter,
gathering
the opinion of warriors ( right, in Saigon) re
Jackie Kennedy marrying the Greek
He took our picture, asked our names,
we were awol,
but what the hell, how many losers
ever see their picture
in the Stars and Stripes?
Lesson
send a boy to fight a war,
never tell him who wins, if he lives.
As an old man,
like that tiger, in a cage,
not San Diego Zoo Eco-accurate Habitat,
a cage, concrete floor, old-time
cowboy movie jail barred
cage,
waiting,
like that tiger in the Saigon zoo, 1968.
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 1:49 PM UTC
The mind has gone AWOL
Armageddon in the blood crimson gargantuan sky
Black stars from the depth of vacant eyes
Oil rains down in sightless desert heat
The last cigarette inhaled before the bomb detonates
Fortunate sons in the era of friendly fire
Rivals hunt metropolis streets to acquire a living
Anonymous crypts get lost in the politics
Seen convicted through bludgeoned eyes
Honored my name with a plaque on a wall
Documentation of civil declaration
Conformity inspired figurehead of a homeland
Bricks leading up to the footsteps of the Whitehouse
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:05 AM UTC
Barbi is on Prozac and Percoset
her ******* are too large
for her back
so now she is no good in the sack
thus Ken left her for Kim Possible
Snow White is a *** addict
so many princes so little time
Alice has OCD
she shares a half way house
with the hatter
G.I Joe is AWOL
last seen by Camp Pendleton
and
oh no
Bambi is venison stew
what is true
where is childhood
for me
and you?
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Open face of demonstration, demanding a new declaration
by excreting exclamations to explain to them
that there is no place for them to lay their head.
You want to erase them, and just replace them again
with a new generation that will provide the revelation
that will spark the alleviation of the victims of trade that had been played by those trained
to wrap chains around them, no longer locked to the ground but running in place nonetheless,
circling around at whatever pace has been set.
Playing house in the devil’s play-set.
Always alluding to what you wanna play next.
It’s time to resign from the contract you signed, pay all of the cancellation fines,
so you can start your own design.
The one that makes you inclined to put time into that
which will impact the things that you blame for losing your mind.
The things, you complain, are a waste of your time,
While you sit around and just hate and drink up a glass of whine.
Open innovation can transform into inspirational collaboration,
which will then send out invitations to the world
to take their own aboriginal exploration which would in turn destroy all awol nations,
thus, breaking the boundaries of potential imagination.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Its nefarious arrogance, that's scaring grandparents, but its in the air and I'm airing it, as we are seeing all the signs, but just staring at them.
Somehow there is safety as an arian, where we are safely alien to Americans made in sapient sanitariums, shooting you first for glaring at em.
So what if i'm Dolling up my delirium for a serum to cure them all.
I am awol, from my call to duty, recreating movies, for serial groupies, suiting up to slither a delivery of a soothing sour piece.
I am stalling to clean the secretions from hostel sheets from the screamers being eaten, by Cretans, with beaten dogs at bay, staring blank at the fanfare from a cage.
Im burning white sage, under pages of poetry anointed by a stoical spleen, tuning out the dreams, of lesser beings, until complete.
A zoo within a zoo within a zoo, i barely know you now
Barely know how, to know you as a model citizen with baller trimmins, fixins, and a life with others wives, in the rough diamonds of the bluff, before the door opens just enough, to look through and confirm what you already knew.
Love is the stuff dreams are made of.
And through you..
Im through.
Pleading, to seed the need for repentance and with reduced sentences, bleeding the demands on stances of chance, in costly cants.
I am convulsing in the congruence, in which I am influenced, by my afflictions of depictions in my head
I might be addicted to the dread of previously said decor, in my adorable horror show afloat, deplorably denoting the nopes of logic, and the slippery slopes of khangi, that spring off me when i'm coughing on my green tea.
You are wrong to stop me in my dislogic, dodging the narcotic mocking of toxic strong arming, in proxy alarms, setting barns ablaze.
I praise the poetry pushed on me, dauntingly haunting me with savant like ambiance, from the have nots, having things as far as the eyes can see.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 12:51 AM UTC
- Joseph Childress
Absence makes the heart grow
Fonder for most
Somber for some
Odd of others
The presence of love
Is the foremost force
In the divorce
Of reason
Attachments
Magnets
Victims of attraction
Repel
Then make tractions
That keep the world
Moving
Rebels revel
In revolution
Worshipping
The great changing
Like crescent moons
Before the new
Each phase
Relays the latest trend
As love, hate and sin
Blends in a cocktail
Of delusion
Drunkards play martyr
In the extremist
Conditions
Relentless systems of belief
That leaves relief
For the reliving of death
The children witness it all
Imitating
And coming up shorter
Than expectations
With each generation
Alternating ideas
For alternatives
Altering native ways of thinking
Beings battle for correction
In facilities
As others rights
Squander
In the quelling of dissent
Fighting fear
Is dear
To the hearts of trendsetters
Setting the standard
For the new age
New way of thinking
Off to Walden’s Lake
For the Great Disappearance
Dissing appearance
For the sake of absence
As absentmindedness
Watches from afar
Don’t worry
I’ll return with enough
Civil disobedience
The laws will have to change
In our honor
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
This is a special report my computer went AWOL unknown corruption , I am eagerly waiting for it's return.
I am suffering withdrawal from poetry and greatly miss all of you
Feel free to message me on what great poetry i have missed and i will add them to the top of my list , to read apon my computers return , in the meantime i am searching for a neighbor who is nice enough to let me take even five minutes of there time to go online.
I hope that i can cope with my computers absence, I don't want ,me or my computer or this message to self destruct
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
i saw you lose your mind
or rather i witnessed
your body
after your mind went
awol
you talked in endless loops
and writhed across my bed
smearing blood leaking from your knees
and shattering the old mirror on the wall
your mind is the most beautiful i have
ever seen
even in that primal instinctive state
you made sense
at least to me
at least in that moment
you thought you were dying
and you stripped completely naked
you didn't understand life
and why we were here
any answer you could
come up with had to be wrong
because if you understood life
that would make you special
and you knew you weren't that special
but the wild look in your eyes
said otherwise
you don't remember any of it
i won't ever forget it
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
we're alive too
too alive to die
and we're in love all the time and my sister says life is a movie
and every movie has a love story
and life is about love
which is why I
will starve my ribs to Adam
will return to dust
will Eve your lips, the darkest hue of moon I've ever met
insomniac hips guide constellations to lucid dreaming
constant smoking and distraction
we gather in sheds and houses
in shreds the ways we forgive and forget
and weigh decisions, the weight of responsibility nagging at my shoulders
ripples of anxiety
curdle in my throat
it is Thursday
i let an infant pull my hair
i rub your sick back
I miss my blood/ my brother
detained
by four walls of injustice
know
one
knows
the
truth
but I
believe you
and now your family
in various states of uncertainty
holds the threads of stories that you weave
stolen money and crimes against humanity
repossessed cars
bottles of liquor
sisters in law
above the law
held up by the law
interrupted
interpreted
and moment we spent was precious,
we laughed and were normal again
the satellites in yr eyes
who knows what they've seen
what they choose to believe
their is such madness in our blood
it runs
thick and rampant
galloping in our genes
and we
live for a living
you alive even when you dying all the time
swollen tears/dynamite boot you/hungover father/ surprise maker of cigarettes and smashed porcelain
born again/seventh day sinner/ come clean out the water/ baptized coffee
working class hands hung the rhythm of the drum in my chest
the tornado of my soul
too big
energy contained not mine anyway
for you i would unlearn so many consonants
i would forget to speak in sentences
for you make moonly gestures
move me to guessing in 14 degrees with ward of the state AWOL passenger seat
spill yr worries sister
we are not alone tonight
you are so much of my blood when i forget what we are made of
we come from the same stardust
however toxic
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
"CORRUPT SOCIETY"
Ayo I live in a corrupt society treated like a slave
We're forced to work an make money for a debt we'll never pay
The world gets colder than adolf ****** when he slayed
In an Antarctic setting with tempatures dropping every day
Where rebels who fight the system are always convicted
An the real actual truth seems to come up hidden
It's missing like AWOL solders who fled there post
I wanna Emmagrat with an "E" cause this country's a joke
I feel like I've lost all hope I can't find a save haven
Dreams of svoboda an time that I can't save
Waiting on people to reply back sitting there alone
These dumb ones are jesters I'm a king apon his throne
My brain thinks of things that are unthinkable
I'm like an iceberg you see I sink the unsinkable
(To be continued)
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
Mad at myself
Mad at myself
Why am I always
so mad at myself?
Cut clients short
time is but a construct but
this is my second or third complainant this week or last week and it’s like I’m impatient and cut their time short always middle-aged blond women maybe I’m projecting maybe I’m not so bad, maybe I’m just tired and lazy and being catty
I’m mad at myself
I’m mad at my actions
Waiting until last minute to register for classes got a way in but it’s becoming a disaster
I’m mad at my actions
I’m mad at myself
I’m no longer a child
on the fucken shelf
that needs to be helped
that needs her hand held
while doing every grown-up step
I’m mad at myself
I’m mad at myself
Mad at myself
At myself
Myself
Self
Elf
Am I an elf?
Why did I **** up?
Why did I **** it up?
Why am I stuck?
Why do I ****
I can salvage it all
I can stop my fucken fall
So ****** I feel
It almost feels unreal
Work and School
I’m stacking
and slacking
I’m procrastinating
and waiting
I’m ******* up
and ******* it up
So mad at myself
So mad at my elf
So mad to be a self on the shelf
of childhood fighting adulthood fighting endless deadlines ending early making my clients ****** and not want to come back because they feel like they don’t matter because I’m cutting their sessions short or running late or taking my sweet **** time, acting like a shorty clown and in grad school I sent all those emails out but then go awol and have so many doubts that I’m making mistakes and failing just a little bit and I don’t get it
Why am I doing this?
Why are they so ******
Why can’t I shake off my fears and fully fucken get into gear
until I work this work this out
until I forge my life with sound
until this mountain of mourning or sorrow splits like the hilt of a samurai blade splitting grain becoming fits of bulbous rage and it feels like I’ve gotten a bad grade in life not a C or a D but a big fat F
Full of strife
I can’t eat
I can’t sleep
I ****** up
I’m in heat
I’m in love
in my head
and my heart’s
full of dread
I’m upset
I’m aloof
I’m unaware
and a goof
I ****** up
I’m alright
I’ll make it all right
I’ll make it all better
I’ll stop straying off the beaten path
I’ll get wetter
and wetter
so soaked and sloshy I’ll
be okay and forgive myself
I’m no longer mad at myself
No longer mad at myself
I forgive myself
Forgive myself
Myself
Self
Elf
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
The White Race
&
The Black Base
In-fighting Nut-Case
Wearing kits & killing kins
Tracer bullets leave no trace!
Ak's & Ra's
Customized & hand made
Just Like Burger-king
Have it your way!
And this war is brought to you by
Your's Truly,
The infamous
NRA!
Cops shooting innocent by-standers on the block,
Innocent by-standers then copping Bump-stocks,
Dropping scores to make it count,
Odd murders 2 even out!
Sniper's posted atop rooftops,
Legislations to make him stop.
A "Mentally Challenged" Caucasian man who had gone AWOL?
Suddenly reappears like an Automatic *****
Posted @ the Hotel
Planning to **** wholesale
To get the maximum reward
Also to get closer to God,
Bodies 4 trophies
& Their Head's as his awards!
In the midst of all this
Another white supremacist
With absolutely no
Motor-skills
To run us over
& Cause massive kills
At Town Halls
Movie theaters and even at the Shopping mall
A Muslim nut-job
Planning ********
A darker American
A lighter Puerto Rican,
Or even a white broad,
Always someone@ur service
To start a brawl,
To ***** some skin
& Make it crawl,
To raise u up
Then Watch you fall.
Wild fires burning bodies bare
Of All colors,
From well done to medium rare,
White House to Gitmo
Water boarding & a bit more,
Laid back extreme sports!
**** 4 tats here,
Cliques & Gangs here
Bricks in the bag here
Clipped to the back rear,
**** yes No *** hair,
Shotguns no cab fare,
Tariffs on imports
Nuns & Nymphos
Hoes before bro's
Turning friend's into foes.
Deserted mill workers,
Over dosing on pill sherbets
Gettin' high 2 get by
Laugh hard then start to cry,
Suicides to feel Alive,
Straight up living
Just to curl up & die,
What a way to go
Get buried to touch the sKy!
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Drawing attention to oneself is the best illustration to show that you aren't present.
That you may not be transfigured into a rabid popsicle stick.
One day, I may not there for you
to catch all of your raindrops from this clouded season you call truth.
My bones aren't as strong as they used to be,
I'm far from what I once used to be,
and the world carries me around like I'm on its backpack,
unzipping it only to when it's told to do, because in these times,
It's easy to get your backpack stolen if you don't have a key to lock it with.
This world is cruel.
The American dream comes with a reality check made in China.
We hold flowers and bricks on our dying hands,
because as humble and enlightened beings that we are,
Death will not knock on my doorstep
with his scythe hooked across the inside of my gums
without me bashing its skull and stabbing him with his crossbones
Theodore Dreiser never had to walk through the skins of black children
whose lungs had been eaten by politically justified stray bullets,
so unless Sister Carrie is codename for pleasurable manners,
then this little song-and-dance **** list we call USA has gone AWOL.
The doors have risen from the ashes of media grave sites,
and have opened its pathway to those influenced by it.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
The town still drips
with last nights alcohol consumption,
effervescent with AWOL brain cells.
Romance viewed from the inside of a glass,
vanished in its absence.
Neon bar signs became the stargazing
of the twenty-first century
and hangovers a fast burning cigarette,
leaving romance to pile
in a duotone of grey
in the ashtray of our heartless society.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
alas, she remained
silent in the eyes of all,
then left without words.
in a rush of confusion,
they waited, yet no return.
Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 2:54 AM UTC
We were told we were born sick
Though we never felt ill
We met in Sunday school
And over the coughs of other children
That hacked out either verses or mucus
It was never clear which
I asked you for a paint brush
And you stepped over the damp tissues
Thrown defeated on the ground
Like offerings at a precession
And you’d painted next to me.
We were told we’d always be sick
But we never looked ill
When I accidently bumped your elbow reaching for
More paper
Our blushing cheeks the color of alter wine
Bore healthy smiles and warm glows
And after countless more Sundays
When the men in funny neck ties
Came around to give us crackers
In the shapes of pills we couldn’t swallow
We decided to hide them in the sleeves of our robes
And we watched as all the other children
Grew sicker while we grew stronger
Even though they drank blood
And we’d sneak off to drink wine.
We became the heretics of hallelujahs
AWOL archangels
And we were never bed ridden from illness
In fact we yearned for the outside
Disregarding the warnings of germs
That ran rampant there
Figuring that was why they made the
Church’s steeple look like a needle
We wanted freedom nonetheless.
They told us that we would catch the flu
By holding hands
And when we were caught contaminated
They told us to wash our bodies off in the water
And you looked at me and I looked at you
And we agreed that we should-
But not this water, not here
So we grabbed hands again
And you with your free left and I with my free right
Pushed through the double doors
And as the light poured in the chapel
It scorched the priests but for us it baptized us whole
And now we tell ourselves swimming in the sea
That became our holy healing water
We’d only ever be as sick as others let us be.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
What happened is certainly enough to appall.
I'm in the Army and I was forced to go AWOL.
I am disgusted by what happened and it's hard to believe.
Even though my brother was dying, they wouldn't give me leave.
I wanted to see my brother one last time before he died.
I plead with my superiors to give me leave but I was denied.
When it came to my late brother, I thought the world of him.
I went AWOL to be by his side and to tell him that I love him.
Now I'm facing a Court Martial, I'm in trouble indeed.
They turned their backs on me in my hour of need.
Now they're treating me like I committed a horrible crime.
But at least I was able to tell my brother that I love him in time.
A Court Martial and time in prison are what I'll probably receive.
But my superiors were cruel and despicable for not giving me leave.
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 1:53 PM UTC