Thursday, June 14, 2012

When I say..."I am an American soldier"
I cringe at the very thought of being called a hero;
a defender of freedom.

My skin crawls and tightens,
while the tiny hairs on my arm
stand at perfect attention.

When I say..."I am an American soldier"
my mind wanders back to the hot sand
and smokey skies.

I try to wrap my mind around it all.
The war.
The blood.
The oil.

When I say..."I am an American soldier"
I vomit at the very thought.
I feel all the pain inflicted upon my "enemy".

I feel the dirt and grit in my mouth.
I will always carry this burden on my back.
I am an American soldier;
I am a master of masking the horrors.

2 comments:

  1. "a master at masking" unmasking brilliantly here! Thank you for your poem.

    ReplyDelete