posted on Jul, 26 2012 @ 12:11 AM
I open the chest slowly as it has been some time, I know what I’ll see when I look inside.
Memories of a life once lived, one where our job was to fight to live.
The medals all shiny and neat in their rows, the ribbons and photos, that I keep enclosed.
The Ka-bar engraved, with the battle we fought, and the coins of our Corps, are part of the lot.
As the memories flood back, confliction sets in, why were we there, we shouldn’t have been.
I look through the photos, of a war ridden world, and think of the wounded or dead.
The people left behind, to clean up our mess; it was a dirty war I must confess.
The war has ended, the troops are all gone, where is the country, something is wrong.
Civil war has arisen, and violence is high, the country is no better, and no one cares why.
Chaos will consume, and then our war will resume, and spread our ignorance with every attack.
The madness must end, this country needs it’s troops home, no more wars, let’s leave it alone.
For many men have trunks like mine, reminders of hell and of a horrific time.
I close my trunk and tuck it away, for I know in the future there will come a day.
When I’m asked what’s inside, and what it all means, that will be the time, I spill all the beans.
For now it stays shut, under lock and key, to painful right now, even for me.