Daily States of Pain

 

I never thought for a moment of my future,

Never knew how much I would suffer,

I go through life trying so hard

But disability always gets the better,

Always stops me in my tracks from progressing.

 

I was keen for life, keen to explore

Different places that as a kid I only dreamed,

But my tours of the Persian Gulf

Have ceased all bright eyed wonderment,

And now I’m laughed at for my efforts

To explore new horizons – the emotions

That sit within as demons taunt.

 

Day by day is a struggle now,

Existing on hand-outs and drip-fed pensions,

And I’m looking for employment not

Sure if safety nets are being removed

As pain persists and voices torture every

Effort in benevolence,

And I’m not allowed a mortgage,

Not allowed many aspects of life

That many take for granted,

I am done in many ways

Even though authority gives some

Leeway to my blindness

And mental fatigue –

And that’s just it,

To exist like this takes toll

And tired all the time,

I am but a fleeting memory

Of whom I used to be

And I know my conduct was

Not my best upon return,

But surrounds of Patriot Missile Systems

Condition many to be a focal point

Of violence,

     And yet,

Violence was not

The child that sits within

Who cries at every rape

Within his sleep,

 

     This is not so much

A humbling – but a sentence,

A sentence for a boy

Who did his bit for Queen

And country even though many

Things are now denied,

But still I try

I try although psychologists

Determine the path that I now take,

They state the conditioning

And all my tainted ways,

And they know I am disturbed

By visions of children –

Hungered, thirsty to the point

The babes could no longer scream,

And the blood,

The blood still runs

Along canals of deceit

As the next batch go forward

In their honesty – and some will

Come back a hero,

But many will cry in shame

For the life they undertook

Just to do their bit,

Now knowing of the madness

That sends each soul to hell,

A living hell where dreams once

Cherished have perished,-

Giving way to restrictions

Of their freedoms as they

Try to navigate the future,

And we all have lost,

Lost are those that laugh

At each casualty returned,

Lost are those whose backs

Are close to breaking for

The globe they now carry;

Be their private world of pain.

 

I did my bit,

I did my bit and threw

My medals in the bin,

Still you expect me to take

This insanity on the chin

And get a job while I know

My younger years have been robbed,

And while you’re dancing your

Summer days away,

Dancing away in Peace

And laughing at the casualties,

     I never had my summer years

And have sat within a winter

Upon my return some twenty years

Ago,

And most days when I’m awake,

I only wish to sleep

Till death takes me

From the torture,

And I cry for my children,

Because their dad has never

Been able to fully engage

All emotion upon their growing –

And, this is hell,

This is hell,

This is hell,

A hell I should never

Have been condemned to live

For I was once the placid

Child I see before me,

And I never want to live again.

 

 

Michael J Waite 27^th December 2012.