A Mothers Tears

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A Mother's Tear​

default.jpg
© Amy Peterson More By Amy Peterson

Published: June 2014

There's more to the story,
then what just appears.
A war-written story,
from blood and from tears.
My son went to war,
a very proud man.
He fought in Iraq,
on the hot desert sands.
He witnessed his buddies,
his comrades, his men,
bleeding and dying,
he witnessed their end.
Where is Pvt. Tommy?
He's blown up all around,
his comrades spent hours,
picking him from the ground.
Sleeping in holes,
dug in the sand,
dreaming of home,
but it's become foreign land.
He can't tell his enemy,
from family or foe,
as he watches his friends sent out,
with tags on their toe.
He knows his Mama,
is sleepless like him,
and he tries to send word,
whenever he can.
He tries not to worry,
his family at home,
the horror that he faces,
he faces alone.
His mission is over,
he's sent back to me,
he fought for our freedom,
but he'll never be free.
He yearns for his buddies,
that died over there.
He's caught with the living,
in a doubled looped snare.
He screams in the night,
for the battle still roars,
as he lays in his bed,
he re-lives all the horror.
Nobody heard the fight,
he still fights,
except for his Mama,
who comforts him every night.
He never will be,
the son I once knew,
the war killed that part,
for freedom, for you.
Great Nation, Great Leaders,
and all those who will hear,
Freedom began
on a mother's first tear.


Source: Poem About How War Changes Someone, A Mother's Tear
 

A Mother's Tear​

default.jpg
© Amy Peterson More By Amy Peterson

Published: June 2014

There's more to the story,
then what just appears.
A war-written story,
from blood and from tears.
My son went to war,
a very proud man.
He fought in Iraq,
on the hot desert sands.
He witnessed his buddies,
his comrades, his men,
bleeding and dying,
he witnessed their end.
Where is Pvt. Tommy?
He's blown up all around,
his comrades spent hours,
picking him from the ground.
Sleeping in holes,
dug in the sand,
dreaming of home,
but it's become foreign land.
He can't tell his enemy,
from family or foe,
as he watches his friends sent out,
with tags on their toe.
He knows his Mama,
is sleepless like him,
and he tries to send word,
whenever he can.
He tries not to worry,
his family at home,
the horror that he faces,
he faces alone.
His mission is over,
he's sent back to me,
he fought for our freedom,
but he'll never be free.
He yearns for his buddies,
that died over there.
He's caught with the living,
in a doubled looped snare.
He screams in the night,
for the battle still roars,
as he lays in his bed,
he re-lives all the horror.
Nobody heard the fight,
he still fights,
except for his Mama,
who comforts him every night.
He never will be,
the son I once knew,
the war killed that part,
for freedom, for you.
Great Nation, Great Leaders,
and all those who will hear,
Freedom began
on a mother's first tear.


Source: Poem About How War Changes Someone, A Mother's Tear
What Happened Over There Is Over If Left Over There

What I went through in combat is buried far back in my mind and it stays there. Her son wasn't brought up right or he wouldn't have been so weak to let his experiences haunt him. I really resent the implication that combat veterans are emotionally disabled. Only if they are Mamas' Boys.
 
What Happened Over There Is Over If Left Over There

What I went through in combat is buried far back in my mind and it stays there. Her son wasn't brought up right or he wouldn't have been so weak to let his experiences haunt him. I really resent the implication that combat veterans are emotionally disabled. Only if they are Mamas' Boys.
You are the ONLY person I have ever read, or heard state my exact feelings on the matter.

I have experienced this first hand and I felt the exact same way then, and now.

A man understands that men die, and he may die in war, but when it is over...that is it...you won the lottery...enjoy your bonus days on this rock.
 
You are the ONLY person I have ever read, or heard state my exact feelings on the matter.

I have experienced this first hand and I felt the exact same way then, and now.

A man understands that men die, and he may die in war, but when it is over...that is it...you won the lottery...enjoy your bonus days on this rock.
Don't Stalk What Is Dead and It Won't Haunt You

The subconscious affects our present actions and attitudes, but there is something deeper that stays completely outside of us. The hostile ruling class wants us to dwell on things that would have gone away for good, slowly disintegrating from the minute they happened. The horror was so intense that it burned right through me. It is unnatural to eat ashes.
 
Don't Stalk What Is Dead and It Won't Haunt You

The subconscious affects our present actions and attitudes, but there is something deeper that stays completely outside of us. The hostile ruling class wants us to dwell on things that would have gone away for good, slowly disintegrating from the minute they happened. The horror was so intense that it burned right through me. It is unnatural to eat ashes.
Ash is just carbon, we are all carbon.

One day we will all be ash.
 

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