A poem.

Oh Army man,
what secret mission whisks you away this time?
Which desert landscape pulls at your heart?
Is it the desert or the blood shed
that gets you going?
As your tank plows through the sand dunes,
picking off rebels like fleas,
does your mind ever wander to me?
Honestly, I think you are more in love with dealing out death than you feel anything for me.
I think when your enemies eyes roll into the back of their heads
you are more alive than listening to me prattle on about girly things.
My heart is rotting like the pile of bodies you’ve left behind.
Nothing means anything to me
with out you being here to share it with me.
But you don’t share,
and I keep begging.
Which gets me nowhere.
I will never win with you.
I have to get over you.

I have a few books published on Amazon. My newest book is called, “The Firestorm of Tears.”

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