War is Hell
Love is redemptive.
I pray to extend more love to each and every one, especially to the tired old men who chew on their nails and sit alone drinking spirits while still battling those voices from deep within the past. I’m haunted and broken because the fathers and uncles, and even the grandfathers, raising my generation were haunted and broken, robbed of their innocence by the wars they fought. I grew up with these broken souls wandering the streets of my city, often stopping to watch them show their misery to passing traffic while swaying in a chemical haze. Some of us lived in homes along with these shadow men, yet we all knew them well because of their shadowy faces. Why they didn’t frighten me I don’t know for certain. But now they’re mostly gone or patched up just enough to live in civilized company. The wounds remain and we all carry them heavily upon our hearts and minds, well aware no Rambo movie or satin yellow ribbons, no increase to the VA budget or flags plastered everywhere, will restore what has been lost for my jaded generation and all the generations to come. Will we ever feel safe and alive within our own skin?
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- Jonah · July 4‹ The Shadow KnowsGone Native ›