You grow wanting to help,
To change the world,
Or at least your corner of it.
What finer way than to be a doctor?
~~~
You didn't expect that helping
Would cause you to be physically torn.
All leave more than place,
They leave life.
Love.
~~~
You contend with new fears.
Things you never thought possible.
Their bodies holdings,
Never thought possible.
~~~
Once a patient came for you,
He had an armed grenade,
In his body.
Things you'll never forget.
~~~
You sit, and wait.
But not for long.
For they come, always.
They will never fail.
~~~
They come, slaughtered and drained.
They ask if they'll lose the limb.
They wish for another to go first.
They wish to rest in peace.
~~~
You reconstruct them
And hope it lasts.
Not really knowing,
Just adding them time.
~~~
You help them heal.
Some go home.
Some wait for the next slaughter.
All receive the Purple Heart.
~~~
They call the Purple Heart
A medal.
But to most it's just a reminder
Of the tribulation.
~~~
Then you wait again.
You may finally sleep,
Maybe even laugh.
There are people you can enjoy.
~~~
After working on their bodies
You learn some will go back out.
And their commanders don't care.
Why should they?
~~~
Your friend receives a letter,
From his wife as usual.
His baby said his name,
Without knowing who he is.
~~~
They come again, for they always come.
You paste them back together.
You think it'll never end.
How could it?
~~~
But it does one day.
For things never last forever.
You're sent home, back to life,
Love.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Poetry~Poems~They're not just words on paper, they express feelings right to you~Beautiful Word Portraits~Mine, and others~ For my best poems, read the my newest ones. (The ones toward the bottom of the list)
