That I was nothing but a lost
Little soldier, exiled to a non-
Existent war. I've watched
Everything play out in front
Of my shallow eyes, only to
Realize that I was twenty-six
Hundred miles away from it all.
An existential dilemma wrapped
Up, neatly, inside of a thousand-
Yard stare; A victim of a self-
Imposed case of shell shock from
A hand grenade I haven't quite
Learned to let go of yet. The pin
Keeps calling to me, like the itch
That I could never reach. I won't
Be happy until I've burned all that
I was right down to the Ground.
