Time doesn’t heal all wounds
it Closes them over, hides the blood and bone under crisscross scars,
it Fades badges of honor, camouflaged in soft sagging, aging skin.
Memories grow fuzzy as you rest on laurels, feeling proud of survival.
Time makes you Forget,
how to cope with the pain
how to endure.
You are Soft. Weak. Pathetic.
Back in the trenches your mind would explode under onslaught of bullets and bombs
you Weep alone, your delicate little feelings hurt by words. Words? Really?
You should have stayed in Fighting form you know?
A siren wails….
You know what’s coming
Running out of time….
you hear the engines of then sneaking up on now….
Sticks and Stones WILL break your bones.
I’ll give you something to Cry about.