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 ramblings and things

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Coping


He  knew it was going to be
A three ciggies for breakfast day,
Needed that surge of nicci
To get him up and on his way.
Trying to stop smoking
That was a joke,
At least his only addiction
Was tobacco smoke.

He just needed its boost
For his sanity's sake
Remembering the moment
He'd screamed himself awake
From dreaming of Bosnia and
That final UNFOR patrol,
The discovery that almost
Made him loose control.

The sense of exerting
The power of his will,
To throttle back the urge
To go search and kill.
He straightened the mess
Of his wrecked bed
Accepted the thudding
Pounding  in his head.

He lit his second ciggie
From the butt of his first,
Took a huge swig of tea
To try and assuage his thirst.
Lit the third needed ciggie,
That's  the way it would be
Learning to cope with
The problems of his PTSD.

 













 








 









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