Sun and Grit

Sun

every time I stare into the sun

I recall the weight of my gun

sounds and smells, angry and foreign

I am America’s displaced sister and son

every time I look up at the moon

my death could be awaiting me over the dune

o God, Mom,  I hope I make it home soon

before I’m lost in the desert with my platoon

the one time my friend got it in the head

all of the world turned a bloody red

I don’t know how many we left for dead

was it our actions or something I heard said

Everytime I look around my hometown

how there’s not a single violent sound

I’m alone and dead but above ground

I wonder if I have lived through something profound

why can’t I forget what I have seen

were the old vets just tougher and mean?

maybe they bore all of the same dynamite sheen,

back then we just covered it up real clean

War is hell and hell is war

I am much different from before

Mother, please know I will always love you more

I can no longer stay I am out to shore

I could not find any reason

that I felt this feeling of treason

I am a killer amongst in my season

I was USA’s golden sister and son…

now the American and the gun are one

 

image courtesy of Pinterest

 

50 thoughts on “Sun and Grit

  1. Quite a memory! 😥
    Is there anything more complex?
    I do love that there is a growing love and respect for our veterans in Australia.
    And honestly, what words are there? I’ll just send some cyber love ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. PS I don’t believe they were tougher and mean, there were a lot of hidden problems. We see them every ANZAC day at the veterans’ breakfast, pouring plenty of delicious stuff into their coffees and teas… plenty of broken wives too, hidden. So heart breaking.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My dad only talked about it once. My granddad told us kinds of things about WW2. He had taken a very humorous approach to recounting his experiences. He never talked about the ugly parts of it though. It was watered down for us. The things he saw, I can’t imagine

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I know the people who work in refugee camps etc say that these people, children too, who have seen unspeakable things, tend to develop sophisticated macabre senses of humour to deal with it all. I can’t imagine either. I don’t want my imagination to even go there, it’s just horrifying.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. it helped that some of their parents were awesome…one of them was foolish enough to dare me to eat this huge piece of peanut butter pie, and of course I did it. He had to buy me a whole pie. I know, just crazy times 😉

        Liked by 1 person

      4. well then that’s where we will meet!! although, cocaine and prostitution are illegal there, boring old USA. Idk about puggles, but they should be, they’re positively bananas! 😉

        Liked by 1 person

      5. hahaha I was thinking eating a lot of peanut butter pie will do it for me these days lol or maybe banana…as for puggles, aren’t they baby platypuses platypi?
        Ugh, I have to go, so great to catch you!!

        Liked by 1 person

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