It’s almost like a warning

Every time he comes around.

I dislike the feel of his presence

Dislike even more, his sound.

The presence is overwhelming

The doubt, the shame

The price we pay

For playing this game.

 

When you look at this soldier

You see a monster

I see a soul

I hear a heartbeat

I feel his mothers love

His countries adoration.

When you see her face

You see a very torn woman

Angry and diseased

I see a woman that fought too many battles

Alone.

She tried too hard to be too perfect

Until it all came crashing down on her.

When she lost everything

She realized she wanted to die

But didn’t have the guts to do it

Now she numbs the pain with drugs

Hoping this time

Will be the last.

When you see the adopted child

You see a gift to two people

That wouldn’t have one

Without it.

I see a person that loses their identity

Loses their sense of where they belong

Of who to bond to

Can anyone be trusted now?

I see years of therapy to cope

And if it fails,

Death.

You see them praying

Think they are weak

Or strange.

I see strength and honor

In a man that can kneel before his God

Praying for his family

His country

His people,

Even you.

 

He walks right in without warning

Sits down, pulls out a smoke.

I tell him he cannot do that here

But he’d prefer I never spoke.

He’d like to change my mind on a few things

Hate the Muslims, love the war

He knows it will never work

He’s said all this before.

Just before he left

He tried to read me the Miranda

Ignored him like I always do

He’s just propaganda.

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