Damaged Existence
Another cold morning,
The breeze sways the trees.
Slowly;
In the garden, it's a different scene:
The forgotten stranger's footsteps.
The door opens and closes.
Another manly laugh now
Fills the house before him,
Unexpected, unexplained, unwanted.
Inevitable replacement of the man he used to be.
A fresh memory still remains
Of the wounds, the blood,
And the bullets,
The crippled and limbless,
the dead and the struggling.
Their cries and screems, haunting his dreams.
A wondering soul now
belonging to him, the unfortunate souldier,
forgotten in the trenches,
Of his own mind's obstacles.
What was here yesterday,
Won't be here tomorrow.
A.
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