Finally over, we returned from war,
I went to see her, our love was no more.

Broken, tattered and barely sane,
Losing my first love, by far the worst pain.

I wander the streets distorted and torn,
Losing her was so difficult to morn.

I search for work and for something to be,
Rejection comes swift and life becomes harder to see.

Nightmares and horrors haunt me as I sleep in my bed,
I grip my gun tightly as I raise it to my head.

The phone rings, my brother asks why?
This isn’t life, I want to die!

Walking and falling, a bottle in one hand,
As I dreamt of good times back in the sand.

I talked to my friends and saw their lives are just as bad
Leaving the fight, the glory, made us mad.

Later we, conversed and all sought to meet,
To go on fighting, to pick up our feet.

They took us soldiers out of the war,
But the war remains still, knocking on our door.


Hldr. Gonçalves

842

Daniel Goncalves

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-return-34/