Alone, some nights, he still feels that dread,
The ongoing conflict, within his head,
Friends’ faces he sees, he views with fear,
Because for him it’s obvious, they are no longer here.

Another flag draped coffin, returns to base,
Images flashed of our hero’s face,
Inside, after all these years, still the feeling of guilt,
Sometimes ashamed of the life he has built.

TV programs show them “coming home”,
Families left shattered, wives left alone,
“WE don’t do IED’S”, by the rules we abide,
Still the war of guilty feeling still rages inside.

Some days are good, and some are just bad,
Missing his mates, and the lives they never had,
Shouldn’t be like this, he knows in his heart,
But from those pic’s in his head, he would never be apart.

To the outside world, an ordinary guy,
Doing his bit, watching the world go by,
Sometimes when it looks like he’s doing his job,
His mind is elsewhere, with mates passed, Steve and Bob.

A tear wiped away, only one as of yet,
“Stop saying sorry”, “it’s ok to be upset”,
Held close means so much, when that dread draws so near,
The totally new, different kind of fear.

The conflict’s are over, his battles are done,
Days spent in the park with his girls having fun,
Still thinks of those in warzones, so far, far away,
Blesses them all, everyone, everyday.

Not many know, all that he’s seen,
The building’s, the places, the faces, he’s seen,
One he has trusted, she will not misplace,
For that tear that he sheds,
She wipes from his face.

Like a doctor, she sees, deep in his eyes,
The pain and the guilt, each time he cries,
Her “Med’s”, well she, just holds him close,
The medication is hers and so is the dose.