Going Home

Going Home short poem

Photo by mah_japan

Pain fills my room,
Sweat and fear surrounds me.
I will cry if I move
But I have no choice.

We are trying to walk,
Go up and down stairs.
We are all grown children
Just trying to survive.

You’re alone with your pain
And a touch feels like fire.
What could be worse,
The shame or the fear?

With tears in my voice
I say I need help,
A hand touches my shoulder
And all fear disappears.

A voice says, “I’m here,
And what can I do?”
A stranger shows love,
My fear now knows peace.

A long way to go,
But now not alone.
With the love and help
I soon will go home.

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Randall Smith

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Not from anywhere but from everywhere Germany, Korea, Viet Nam, USA, Army Veteran, Germany 1966-1968, Viet Nam 1968-1969. Two kids and bunch of grandkids. Enjoy my Roses, fishing and card playing. I may not write for several months and then I can not stop for several weeks. I have notebooks with 4 or 5 lines only, waiting for me to return.
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