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AftermathAfter the war, he came home to me, not the same man as he used to be. The smile that he hides behind, to think that he is being unkind? Never let the truth be told, secrets of war that he now holds. Those too fearful will not hear, the end of this is nowhere near. Nightmares, night sweats, verbal explosions, will come about without any notice. Confusion ravages through is brain, the helplessness of never being the same. It's no fault of mine, I am told, by this man who is so bold. He is my hero, he fought for me, defending my rights, for what I believe. To live my life in the land that's free, I will stand by him ... if he allows me. The ultimate scrifice is what some made, the rest relive it everyday. I owe him more than I can give, I can only wait, until he again, will live. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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