by Stephenie Tucker
The door kicked in the dust relayed,
The area secure and stayed.
No longer taking time for peace,
Within myself, it’s out of reach.
No more time spent to say goodbyes,
No more tears left for me to cry.
I do my job and stay detached,
Don’t even care if I come back.
They call me “sir” they say “you’re brave.”
Death is not the only grave.
Last updated February 20, 2012