“Thank you for your service” she said with a big smile.
I wanted to scream “just walk in my boots a mile”
But instead I just smiled, and said thanks and waved back.
With more burdens, heavier than any ruck sack.
Everyone means well as I stand at this parade.
A part of me is sick of playing this charade.
Always it’s the same ribbons, fanfare, a free drinks.
But every year my heart isn’t there, it just sinks.
Still I question your motives is it me you see.
Or your ideals, maybe political party?
I could scream and yell, rant and rave, simply get Loud.
Sill my voice would never be heard above the crowd.
My “craziness” is something they would clearly see.
Another Marine breaking, just PTSD.
So while you celebrate me and call me “hero”,
Throw parties, give food and spend lots of dinero.
I will go home tonight, lay down to close my eyes,
I see their tears on my face; hear their voice In my cries.
Before you thank me, say what a hero I am,
Look at my face, my eyes, maybe you’d give a damn.
If you talked to me, and would take the time to know
You would see how deep they are the pain and sorrow.
Keep your thanks and know I do not mean to be rude.
If you knew what I’ve been through you’d get this attitude.
Want to thank me? There is only one thing to do
Take time to know me, help a little light shine thru.