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Poem

When it's quiet in the morning, I know that you are gone
Marching from your family to the place you don't belong
You soldier on to countries where your face don't mean a thing
Valued as disruption with the destructions you bring
I wish these unknown countries saw the man you truly are
The body that I ache to hold comes home bruised and scarred
They see you as an enemy, to me you are a hero
They don't see the tears I cry over your untouched pillow
But no one seems to listen, no one seems to care
No one seems to notice that these letters end up nowhere
And often I have wondered if this worrying is worth it
Should I put my life on hold while you complete your service?
The haunting thought of losing you, my skin begins to crawl
But fear's replaced with gratitude I'm part of you at all
It's me you're coming home to, it's me you're fighting for
Thinking of the preciousness reminds me who you are
And as the echo of your boots go marching out the door
I'll be fighting for you too, my own personal war

22nd June 2012

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