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At times that were sporadic
he became nomadic,
moving around from place to place,
never having to show his face.
This solitary life he lived for now
became his choice which did allow
escape from a world that does not care
which he had searched for everywhere.
A victim of circumstance beyond his control,
he wandered around and became a lost soul.
The psyche of his mind after the war
had destoyed all that he had been before.
Gone was the faith he had in mankind.
Gone was the belief that he could ever find
peace in his heart for humanity.
He lived with the thought that he'd always be
able to kill at the sound of a gun
and so he kept moving, following the sun.
Hoping to gain some sense of calm,
reciting in monotony the 23rd psalm,
praying for sanity to find him again,
praying for forgiveness from all dead men
lying on battlefields, never to know
how his heart was aching so.
Buddies and strangers all of them gone,
nightmares at night and waiting for dawn
to erase the scenes that wouldn't let go.
Better to roam and watch the sun glow.
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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