Stallion
It’s often said that time heals all wounds,
I would take that bet;
Whoever said it wasn’t looking,
Through the eyes of a combat vet.
There are wounded minds that have never healed,
Nothing stops the pain;
And nothing can give back that which was taken,
And why was never explained.
Enemy contact so long ago,
Comes back on random nights;
And the mind bleeds a little each time it relives,
The terror of a firefight.
Sometimes it’s merely something seen,
A certain sound or maybe a smell;
An involuntary journey then begins,
Back to that jungle hell.
Once this trip has started there is no way back,
Once again your life is at stake;
And when your only choice is to kill or die,
There’s no choice to make.
What separates a combat vet,
From those with a different skill;
Are the faces that come in the nighttime,
Of those he had to kill.
For life is a search for happiness,
We look for all we can get;
But sometimes all that is seen is pain,
Through the eyes of a combat vet.
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