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.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
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"a master at masking" unmasking brilliantly here! Thank you for your poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you!!!
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