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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1719763-Demons
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1719763
I suffer from Delayed Stress Syndrome. This is what it feels like....
The demons have come to visit me once more.
They've entered through my minds revolving door.
They march on my psyche with shiny, black boots,
Like Nazi SS troops, with"'Sig Heil" salutes.

They come to remind me of things left undone,
Of past battles, fought and never won.
Of opportunities missed, from ignorance and fear,
Of friends and lovers who are no longer here.

Of gunfire and explosions in a jungle far away,
And a lot of good Marines who died that day.
Of the pain from that landmines awful blast,
And the months I spent with my leg in a cast.

Of women I've known, soft-skinned and deep-eyed,
That I left behind to become other men's brides.
Ladies with charm, and characters so fine,
Covenants destroyed by my own design.

And my children that I haven't seen for ages, it seems....
All grown now, and chasing their own dreams.
The demons say that Age is taking it's toll,
Though my mind tries to retain my youthful soul.

The demons taunt me with gestures and jeers,
And tell me I'm worthless, not even worth tears.
And though they always leave with mornings light,
I'll know they'll be back once again tonight.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1719763-Demons