War Ptsd Poems | Examples

These War Ptsd poems are examples of Ptsd poems about War. These are the best examples of Ptsd War poems written by international poets.


Premium MemberPTSD

PTSD

massive explosion
fireball lights up the dark sky
screams for the medic
cries for mother
torn bodies lying at my feet
snap and pop of burning ammo assaults my ears
smell of burnt flesh fresh in my nose
I am frozen in place, I can’t help anyone,
my mouth moves but I can’t speak
I alone am left alive.

I awake in my bed, trembling and sobbing
sweat running in torrents down my body
my hands shaking.
All tell me I am lucky
to be the only survivor.
I am helpless, lost and alone
no one understands.


Trapped

Are the feelings meant to subside now you have gone?
What if I still lay petrified in my bed?
Is it supposed to get easier as time goes on?
Cos I still carve your initials in lines of red

I don't want to feel you anymore.
As I hear you creep.
I want to be done fighting this war,
That I fight in my sleep.

I’d let the police file their case,
But in my mind you stand by the door
Trapped in a room face to face,
While I cry on the floor

Another year passes by,
It always comes round quick.
Must force my tears to dry,
In between feeling sick

Leaving your debris
And left your mark,
You pushed yourself into me,
wish you’d done it in the dark.

That way I would have seen less
The flashbacks wouldn't burn so bright.
But these feelings I will suppress,
As I fight through each night.

With One Click

The day that you left me to go off to war,
you hugged me and said with a shy little grin.
Don’t worry son there’s nothing that can stop me,
from making my way back home to you again.

I remember the next time I saw you dad,
you had holes in your arms where those needles live.
An empty shell of the soul you were before,
the demons in your head took all you could give.

I know you was alone when you met your fate,
sitting on the floor with your back to the wall.
I wonder did you know that I still loved you,
or maybe you didn’t feel anything at all.

The army man saluted at the graveside,
and then he gave your wife a flag for the man.
Who left his home a husband and a father,
but you never came back from that foreign land.

One click, did you think it would ease my sadness.
Did you think my hurt would stop getting bigger.
Did you think maybe it would end the madness.
Did you think of me when you pulled the trigger.

Just because you faded away from me dad, 
it does not mean the things you love ceased to be.
All you left for me is sorrow and knowing,
I’ll live in a world without you here with me.

PTSD

old friends
buried in a bottle
Vietnam

Nine Months

Nine months to create you
Yet grief is insurmountable
She knows you will leave soon

Plucked from their homes and families
Hundreds of thousands sent to slaughter
A disgusting fight over nothing
It pains every mother and daughter

Boys given tools of destruction
Guns and bombs handed to every man
They are convinced this is worth
To die at the "enemy's" hand

Nine months to create you
Nine seconds to kill
Politics takes precedence
Start writing your will

Men shipped off for a gruesome fight
Years later only few come back after war
But now that this one has ended
Another causes suicide rates to soar

If only time could turn them back
Once young boys teeming with dreams
Now aged and souless eyes they are
Boys turned men due to PTSD

Nine months to create you
Far more years to raise
But the government doesn't care
I implore you not to become a killing slave


Ptsd

PTSD
destroys families
it's real

Premium MemberOnslaught

Finally home, cheers, hugs, kisses abound
My head throbs, but the fierce rage I contain
On hair-trigger alert, my inner storm starts to pound
As a good soldier, I've learned to take the pain
Family and friends are strangers somehow
Their laughter and words sound rehearsed and staged
Their eyes betray fear of who I am now
In their lives I can no longer be engaged
I flinch when car lights flash and horns sound
With dread, all night I pace the floor
Sunrise, I depart, Greyhound station bound
Too lost to be found, I've no home anymore

Written 9/14/22
Pick-A-Title, Vol 32 - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
"ONSLAUGHT"

Weather Report

while working
on the road
he says forecasters
are always wrong
he laughs
and wants
others to laugh
with him

but the others
don't understand

he has returned
to work
after his breakdown
the other day
a year
after a brief
time in service
a skirmish

and now
a breakdown when
he chases a woman
with a knife

and now
he yells
at someone
be a man
as if
he’s talking
with others
in the barracks 

and when
a cloud passes
he says
that he
can feel
a change
of weather
in his bones

but with a
sudden loud noise
a war once fought
resonates in his head

Premium MemberPtsd

fireworks or gun fire?
If you suffer from PTSD does it matter?
Hurting their heart, and their dogs’ ears.
And yet, we love them in America.
Where vets are suffering every time, they hear them.

War and Peace In the Time of Love's Retribution

"War and Peace in the Days of Love’s Retribution"



All is fair 
in Love and War
they say 

Lost are the
gambling angels
who walk tight ropes

from the point 
where time departed
the jewel stolen from her crown 

sacrificed for 
something better
a child’s happiness

another fallen 
goddess 
tripping between 

the cracks 
pinned to a wall 
in a sunless place

where light tries
but fails dismally to get in
suspended heart’s arrow

caught forever bleeding
in betrayal’s 
sticky web

Failure’s warrior 
wanting a sword for 
cutting tongues

War and Peace
lost and found 
unconditional

In the time 
of unjust justice
follows freedom 

wearing a new light
darkly burning in
the time of Love’s retribution

(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
gvlm




"Hurts Like Hell" / Fluerie
https://youtu.be/Uil0L-0F4no





"“Once I was brave 
enough
to leave home,
I discovered 
splendid parts of me
I had no clue existed. 
I, then, 
realized 
where they came from 
and hurried home.”

Soldier

Passed my army training feeling like a real man
Straight away they sent me to Afghan
Sharing a tent on a folding bed
Wish I was in a hotel room instead
The suns too hot it’s burning my skin
I often think am I doing the right thing
In the battlefield trying to survive
To say I’m not scared would be a lie
Bullets flying over my head
Got to keep my cool or I’ll end up dead
The smell of death all around
Whistling bullets and screams is the only sound
Yesterday was a bad day for me
My friend was killed and I got shrapnel in my knee
Up to now I’ve lost three friends 
Will this war ever end?
On my way home in the medical van
Was tall and proud now a broken man

Ptsd

I remember…

I remember nothing.
My memories don’t serve me
like peace doesn’t serve you.
As if you went to Korea for war
And never came back. 
even though, I see you every day. 

When you give me that look
Control and abuse exert into the air
As my innocence and love 
Leave the room. 

I remember being terrified, 
But mostly hurt. Hurt from
You causing the pain.
Hurting my mom physically
And hurting myself emotionally.
You griped her neck, like a 
Batter with one strike left grips
A bat, hitting for home.  

I remember running out the house; 
Running from the person I’m 
Supposed to love and want.
Someone who is to teach me how
To love. 

I only learned how to hate.

I remember the absence of innocence
I cannot recall bliss.

I remember abuse, I remember pain.
I remember nothing.

Living With Ptsd

We were all trained to push the limits of the human barrier.
physically growing stronger.
Mentally developing professionalism.
Improvise, adapt and overcome.
A war-torn country is the birth of a squaddie.
The remembrance of the vast desert, the lush-us green zone.
etched painful memories to the soldier's daily life.
We stand together, tall and proud.
We cry together.
The heartless actions we carried out were not for revenge, not from anger.
For the greater good of human life.
At the setting of the sun.
The dead lye at rest, the causalities patched up, the amputees are on prosthetics.
But we all remain mentally scared

Premium MemberShell Shock

Duress and death and flies persist
but I can't rest, or I won't rise

While on I press, relays of mist
that graze beside me now and then,
make red my dead and distant eyes
but raise my listing head again

Unhinged, ashamed, yet still servile,
I aim and brave men atomize
to ginger haze around me, while
ghosts and grenades fill the skies...

The Letters To Me Ptsd

PTSD

P  Pain pistols punishment for public pissings. Please pay attention to my plee for peaceful pleasure. My painful playfulness turns to rage when police pull me over for swerving peacefully in and out of traffic the P did this to me.

T   Tragic thoughts, traumatic brain injuries I receive for my country's to be free. As I sleep I See trees with Tyranchalers chasing after me I Wake up to breath then I go pee  thought the window I see the tree , all **** it's time for a drink or a hit the T did that to me.


S Sodamy,  I am a sex fene it's the trill of the hunt, the silence of the stunt. Server mental illness takes over me, stress from the drugs and drinking still starves me. Strain on my family u see sex drug rock and roll is what I need or may another WAR!! The S did that to me.

D  DEVILISH distorted dreamS I have and see my new enemy is society.

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