What must it be like for returning soldiers from war zones
A poem by Rex Tyler (rex@cooksdelight.co.uk) Source: www.cooksdelight.co.uk |
The galling business and the realization Of getting back from a war zone fought abroad In some hell hole in some small town out yonder To find one's health is ailing that reward For being caught up in what was the4 mayhem Emotionally now shot away and sad Sleep interrupted by nightmarish flasbacks For let it be clear somethings there were bad What really grips my soul right at this moment Was the use made of Du Weaponry, for we Were slam bang in the middle of some fire fights And clearly it had an effect on me Radiation, particulates its was a sad affair Clawing at my sense of purpose As every one does care Gulf War Syndrome call it what you will it matters not And for anyone to say there is no problem thats a lot Of soldiers who know otherwise,who saw, who heard, who felt The weight of war upon them as i the dark they knelt To share what affirmations what prayers they felt inside For returning relatively unscathed it must not be denied We are hurting,we are human afterall we suffer pain We are awash at night with tears was it all invain? There were no weapons of mass destruction the war was infact wrong Depleted Uranium piercing shells just did not belong in that closed scenario and ssome nights when I'm alone I accept I was a guinea pig and I do hear myself groan The parameters of conflict were widened appreciably And I must ponder on this thought into infinity Its a dialogue that I have with myself most everyday And I'm adament that sensation will never go away. |