Pain you cannot see,
Can be heard–
In the wavering of words,
Can be seen–
In the worried expression.
Reliving the past in waking dreams;
Speaking to the invisible that seem so real;
Returning to the present awash with anger.
Ravages of war do not always leave visible wounds–
For the visible may be treated with scalpel and stitch.
That which is unseen may be the most devastating of all,
Lasting a lifetime,
Tormenting, demonizing, incapacitating,
Shattering the spirit.
We see this on the streets,
We see this in the shelters,
We see it on the cardboard signs
And in the tin cans held out by dirty hands,
No place is immune.
These are the ones we turn away,
Diverting our eyes,
Ignoring them as a nuisance,
Wishing they would just go away.
Does not their sacrifice grant them better?
They gave when called,
Offering life and limb;
Permitting us the pursuit of our happiness.
Yet what do we offer in return?
Nothing but contempt.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~