A mammoth man of a once-upon-a-peaceful-existence
About to be blown to PTSD smithereens and the sneaking bullet – silver and insipid – will continuously sneer at the whole of his wide-opened being
Lost himself to the detrimental cause of a warmongering strife-time … all juvenile eyes riotously arisen, whilst yet another group of venomous enemies arrives
Lock, stock and too many smoking barrels altogether to ever get to let yourself stand forth and be counted upon
Yet, all of it amounted to something
Lonely at home and the pained crane of his crushing neck holds him undeniably, viably, visibly hostage for its very best friend – a negligible companion and it feeds, feeds, feeds by his sorry, sullen soul for distinguished misbehaviour
Yet, they offered him a meaningless medal, didn’t they
Filled with distanced discrepancy
Plagiarised at attempting to be real again – he fended for far too long a treacherous time, so it seems to be the case in brutalised point
Heavily anointed the sole-bearer set to sit with this regrettably long-lasting blame …
Why not turn the other cheek, they will say, and unknowingly speak of it as though it were a distant memory but for utter misplaced representation which has unequivocally tasted a dishevelled kind of rewind – unkind at being fervently hostile
And he will speak of his life-lasting experiences every other meandering week, midst a most prolonged and agonised outlook til disguised miserably, miserly within the shriek of a cracking glass of speed-driven whiskey
Tongue-tied, -toed more so, midst all of his white-lies which will soon get to transforming themselves to black, right before the gentle roar of the pour occurs once more …
A body of invisible bullets beneath his borrowed brain … and that shall have to have been the hardest part above all of the other deaths of most of his forever friends
Dressed as comrades-in-arms and ready to die for their proud, proud country, even if it turns out to mean next to absolutely nothing all that noteworthy anymore …
