Hidden Wounds
Honestly, I do not know how to exist most days.
I survive each day, with memories of,
Damages done in battle.
Destruction, chaos, horror;
Everywhere I turn I see violence and death.
Nightmares haunt me every night.
Wounded warrior, you cannot see my scars.
Over there is where my mind returns to;
Useless is how I feel sometimes when the tears flow.
No, you may never understand my battle,
Demons surround me always, invading every safe place.
Survivor; I served for freedom’s sake.
© 2014 CM Davidson
Copyright © C.M. Davidson-Pickett | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment