No Room For Fear
Hot desert days,
scared—
but can’t show it.
Eyes sharp, hands steady,
but the heart’s in a fist,
shoved somewhere behind the plate carrier.
Brothers have my back,
and my heart.
They’re the reason I walk forward
when every instinct tells me to run.
We don’t say much—
just nods, tight grips,
the kind of silence
that means I got you
without ever saying a damn word.
Guns boom,
lights flash,
a brother lost.
Time stops—
but not enough.
You can’t cry when you’re returning fire.
You can’t scream
when your teeth are clenched tight around the pain.
Told a brother’s dead.
A burden I carry
like it’s strapped to my back.
Lunch I had with him
the day before.
Laughed like fools over ty coffee and a bag of jerky.
Now his seat’s empty.
Now I sit with that silence.
A band on my wrist
with his name.
Black letters, white steel.
Forever with me—
when I eat, when I sleep,
when I wonder why I’m still here.
I made it back.
But I didn’t come back whole.
Some parts stayed buried in that sand—
some I left on purpose.
I walk through the store
and wonder how the hell
everyone else seems so normal.
I smile for him—
because he’d want me to live.
But I cry for me,
because I don’t know how.
The world moved on.
I’m still standing still.
And some nights—
I wish I hadn’t made it home at all.
Copyright © jeffrey george | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment