I started writing this poem years ago, but left it half written and couldn’t bring myself to find a way to finish it, mostly because I didn’t know how it should end. Today I did…
Sitting here in this airport just look at me,
In a wheelchair bandaged I can hardly see;
My long journey home I travel reluctantly,
All the pain and anger I could not foresee.
Coming home from war to a sideways glance,
My damaged life is now left to chance;
When demons come to quench my breath,
To entice me into a rendezvous with death.
Each night remains the same for me,
Empty darkness of wartime memory;
Jumping off into the black abyss,
My weapon is sighted so I won’t miss.
How long must I lay in misery,
A life not worth living is all I see;
Thoughts of death run wildly through my head,
Replete with epitaphs written after I am dead.
No fateful courage could I decree,
To end a life of tortured uncertainty;
On my wandered course a decision to make,
Life’s anguish forever or my own life to take.
Thoughts come rapping upon my mind,
I shun them gruffly but I still am blind;
The misery surrounding me I choose to feel,
And avoid the process that will help me heal.
Death will relieve not the pains of life,
Nor drink nor drug will loose the strife;
Only when I do choose to seek now to be free,
Will peace in my life come and settle upon me.
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