The Broken Soldier

I wish for a night or two where I have to wait,

As you struggle through these emotions of great weight.

But sadly it is I who cries in your arms each time,

As this weight of the world has broken my heart.


I am the broken soldier who you carry on,

Through the streets of petals thrown from people arms.

As they fall on their knees, begging with me,

To take the medal which I have won.


For I survived the war, and my freedom is my gift,

But I walk each day, with a silent limp.

And my back is forever broken from the weight of which I bare

For my life of twenty years has so far not been fair.


I hate to give you rules to live your life by,

But without them I’m not quite sure how we would survive.

For the smoke blown in my face reveals the scars I bare,

Hidden beneath my skin so no one knows they’re there.


I wish I could blame my father,

But it was all just a fluke.

I wish I could blame my mother,

But she did all that she could.


Sheltering me from the storm,

Using her body to guard.

But the winds grew too strong,

And torn her apart.


And so I was weathered,

Beaten and bruised.

My heart now holds scars,

Wounds that ooze.


And the blood drips down, and from time to time I see it in my hands,

Covered red, and I wonder how it happened.

I look around to see, who may have struck the blow,

And many a time, I will never know.


But I’ll see you, and I will cry and wail,

For how could you let this happen?

For the scars I thought had healed,

Now suddenly opened.


And the pain tears through my chest,

And my limp worsens beneath me.

I stumble and fall, breaking bones in my body,

For I am a fragile being, hitting the ground so hard.


Waiting to be caught,

But people come too late.

I lie on the ground,

Broken beneath the weight.


I just wish to be held,

comforted and loved.

For once to be understood,

And not to be judged.


For many a time, I will not know what the feeling means,

As it courses through my body, tearing at me.

Pulling me apart and distancing my peers,

For how do people start to understand these bloody tears?


For people think I am victorious,

The soldier who braved the war.

But I was thrown onto the battle ground,

Not sure if I returned home whole.


For I am the broken soldier,

Who cannot walk alone.

Forever wearing both a medal,

And scars around my throat.


I wish, oh how I wish,

For just a night or two.

That I could be the soldier,

That gets to carry you.


Lily Larkin
May 19 2022

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