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The Brave Soldier

 

Over time he learned patience,

And how to take orders for God and country

No matter what the cost or where it took him.

Though it seems the years have ganged up on him,

Ravaged his body,

Beat him into submission,

And filled him with regrets and recriminations.

 

Morose with tortured memories and battle scars,

Completely incapacitated by the anguish in his soul,

My old friend struggles out of bed each morning and shuffles to the bathroom

Only to peer into the mirror and see all the tumult, panic,

Death and destruction of war that cast him into desolation,

Sinking his spirit to depths too painful to mention

With its enormous weight of misery and tears.

 

Alone he sits for hours staring into space with a forlorn frown imprinted on his face

And a downcast lip lamenting all those he lost.

Alas, there will be no new beginnings for my beloved mentor;

The fearless man who saved me from enemy fire as I lay prostrate on the battlefield.

 

All I can do is watch my Sargent sit motionless in a world of woo,

Wallowing in everlasting moments of self-pity and despondency,

Living proof that the best of men are only men at best.

And all we can do is try to stave off the evil forces that pit one man against another.

Now all the brave soldier yearns for is peace….

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Rights Reserved, Bill Bitetti February 16, 2015

 

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