He’s been fighting an uphill battle
Since the day that he was born
In a war that wasn’t his intention
It was passed down to him
Like the chain mail his mother knit
with words of condescension
It couldn’t protect from the cold steel blade
Of his father’s aloof tempered gaze
He was losing before he was crawling
Even more when he started walking
So he carried his gun with the shame
Now his midlife vices
Are shifting all of the blame
Like the gears in a shiny new car
That drives him away
From everything he won’t face
Wounded by generational war scars
He’ll never relent
The passed down lament
And the rights that he must make wrong
He can’t see the fight
He sleeps too well at night
To sing a soldier's song
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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