In life, sometimes people see more than
What is there; beauty in a scrap art
Sculpture, the silent life of a busy street;
Some people don’t walk by a beggar
Like the homeless don’t exist – some see
Their story, their pain. Sometimes people
Can see a whole other world right here
In our own, depending on where they stand.
In war, you tune your brain to pick up on
Everything that has meaning because in some way
It could kill you. But overexposure to pain and the suffering
Witnessed – your acute and razor sharp sense to everything
Dulls, and you end up seeing what you need to see. Only that.
Eventually in war you end up seeing less than what is there.
And that scrim stays with you a long time.
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But later on that scrim may drop or simply get well frayed
Then I see the battle and a view of all the pain
If that scrim gets badly torn it’s sometimes like a flood
Then it’s difficult to sew and seldom really stops.
No plaster can fix that and no bandage will assuage.
Them battles run amok and always ruin my day.
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I understand. Good things sometimes get through those holes, too – but those are seldom far and few between. Stay strong, brother. You’re still here (and I’m glad for that!) and so am I.
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Thanks for sharing this.
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