Too many broken men,
minds twisted in the sand,
promised victory that never comes,
waiting for the end to an endless tour,
to come home to a campaign
of frustration and fear,
a flurry of restraining orders
and divorce pleadings,
wading through civilian life
in worn shoes and words unkind,
stalking and scaring, keeping
anxiety dialed to fight or flight,
nothing helping the grief that comes
when the gun is unloaded
and the war has come home
to swirl like a storm
across the plains
of what we want the world to be;
sinful and savage,
shell-shocked,
the worst of man,
leaving the best of us bleeding
with a belly full of dirt.
Published in Collected Poems, 2016
©2016, Dan Schell, Flex Your Head Books