We send them home broken,
shards of shrapnel in their sides,
skin puckering white over old scars,
Semper Fi and company pride
inked across the aches left
in their bodies and their minds.
We send them home broken:
bullets lodged in their hips
bulging disks in their backs,
crippled and paralyzed by pain-
standing by sheer tenacity,
still duty bound to walk like Marines.
We send them home broken:
alone, they recall horrors in the quiet,
tears dancing on the edge of lashes,
silencing the everlasting Ooo-Rah
to show you their wounds.
We send them home broken,
still coughing up creosote,
eyes burned by oil fires,
ever bandaging their damaged souls.
They drop place names like grenades:
Kuwait. Fallujah. Baghdad. Home.
And we send them home. Broken.
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Tears flood my eyes sit here contemplating the horror that our brave men and women have suffered and will continue to suffer long after they have returned Home. Home is to be a place of solice and peace and yet can there ever be peace for them again? Will their minds and hearts ever have that quietness knowing that all is right with the world-No. They have served their country and come back broken, wounded, and lost. I have a deep respect for the brave soldiers who defend our rights and stand up for what our country was founded upon and yet I find myself angry that they are not shown the respect and honor that they deserve. Bless Those that serve and those that wait patiently for them to come home. May God Protect You and bring you home safe.
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ReplyDeleteAwesome depiction love it.
ReplyDeleteHillary I still love this this poem it stands out.Brendon
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