He say’s He’s leaving
He’ll be gone for a year that feels like it lasts centuries
American Flag waving in the background
His time is near
He knows it all too well

No words of wisdom
To ease our pain
Confetti’ and people’s cheers and we watch him leave
A party as dark and depressing as seeing a man steal for food
His time is near

The danger that soldiers fae.
He’s scared and confused
A salty taste left in his mouth as sweat drips from his brows
Beard drenched in sweat like Niagara Falls
Still he keeps our hopes up and our spirits strong

A year passes
Knock Knock
I’m not prepared  for the stench of defeat
Knees collapsing, the soft touch of the oak wood
A Gold star and a Purple heart can never dry my tears