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undying ember

molested as a child
on a morning so mild
he can barely remember
a few faded images like a dying ember
reprimanded day by day
as he grew and aged along the way
told he?d amount to nothing at all
if he had hopes or dreams or big ideals, they?d fall
talked into college he couldn?t afford
dying to live a life, he falls upon his sword
and signs up for the rotc
and in no time oh say can he see
the world lying before him
a war, a hymn
a song, a solemn sound
he stands upon a barren mound
his whole life come to this time
his sights on the enemy, silent as a mime
and a shot rings out
he falls with a shout
blood spattered
spine shattered
broken and alone
sand in the wound, but he was in the zone
all of it has come to now

molested as a child and he never knew how
or why it even mattered
but now his thoughts drift, with the desert wind, scattered
told he was worthless, a piece of shit
and it?s all come to this one bit
but he?s not nothing. he knows he matters
as the idea he?s here to make a difference patters
across his grave, his future ghost turning
in the ground below, his back burning
and he never even declared his major
never had enough friends or family to need a pager
never made a call on a cell phone
never got to shine like he could have, should have shone
but it?s all come down to here
and he wants to send his love out to his dear
but there is no dear, no one at all
his eyes water, breath starts, life stalls
the memory of a kiss lingers
fleeting, elusive like the sand slipping over his fingers
reaching for his gun
a shape stands over him. is this the one?
is this it?
is this all?
is this all there is?
the glory of it all pulled away so easily like a soda with no fizz
a day ago, in a tent back at camp
taking a break from building a ramp
he stopped for a drink with another soldier or two
and, together, they had a time, a time so great he didn?t know what to do
he smiles
though miles
and ages away
from that tiny moment only yesterday

molested as a child
on a morning so mild
he can barely remember
the whole thought of it like an undying ember
stoking the fires in his shattered back
and a drink with strangers can make up for the lack?
the lack of a life, something worth living
something worth the time of ever forgiving
the tepid existence he was allowed
he hopes at the last that his father?s so fucking proud
his broken son
under the sun
coming undone
cut down by a gun
when all he wanted was a little money
for college, for life, maybe a honey
a lady, a girl, someone to love
but, what . . . what . . . what was he thinking of?