The Combat Medic
He almost slipped away today
With the many words he meant to say
About the way he felt
From the cards that were dealt
It was hard to keep the ghosts away
They would come in the dark
Screaming, crying, begging for his help
Faces obscured, but he knew who they were
The ones he had lost
In every sense of the word
Drink and drugs couldn't ease the pain
Sunshine, rainbows, snowflakes, who cares?
He preferred the rain
Rain seemed to clean, though with it came mud
Memories of fog, the smell of their blood
Those days are long past, but never forgotten
There have been many wars
But only one that he fought in
He almost slipped away today
Yet once again, he decided to stay
Copyright © Rocco Marinelli | Year Posted 2017
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