Realism
“Living with the war no one talks about”
I wake in a trench no one else can see,
landmines of thought exploding in me.
Smiles are my helmet, jokes my gun,
but the war in my head is never done.
They call it coping, I call it the fight,
a battlefield burning all through the night.
Each breath is shrapnel, each step a lie,
and victory’s just learning how to die.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
