creative writing, empowerment, men, mental illness, poetry, Uncategorized, war, writing

Soldier, then warrior


Make for a sobbing

Retreat and each time

He sees a flag

A part of him

Yearns for the innocence

That died that day

A wound that

Was not solely physical

A hitch in his step

After too many miles

To have stared into

The eyes of the mad dog god

Stinking of cordite

Black gums dripping


Motivated by the ideal

Of the warrior

He became a soldier instead

But that was preparation

For the real fight

Never ends

And defeat will not find him

Uncomfortable questions

For politicians

Find them wanting

And their pampered children

Cannot meet his gaze

Hero is a word

Strained of meaning

He followed orders

Kept his brothers alive

And the bitter children

In parking lots

Grow silent as he walks past

Unable to recognize

That his path is

Somewhere they dream of

Waking in pools of angry sweat

Tweeting flags and hashtags

Calling it something

He smiles at your romantic notions

The dog god dog

Spoke them to him once

His wound was that he


And link by link

He builds the leash

Until his fingerprints

Are smooth

To chain that divine animal

Whilst he finds a place

Of peace within himself




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