If things, and by things
I mean people, places,
Times, temperature,
Thoughts, rants,
Conflicted feelings,
Staring at ceilings,
Peeling away the layers,
Constructing the edifice
Of consciousness,
If things had been different
At the proverbial fork
In the road,
Do you kiss the toad
To make a prince?
Do you wash twice
And then rinse?
So another cast
Assumes their roles,
As you follow yours
To a different horizon.
                        

Thank you for your service.
You hear that often when
Claiming a veteran’s discount,
And it’s hard to know 
How others picture it, frame it,
Put your ‘service’ into context,
Maybe imagining some unrealistic 
Notion of sacrifice, devotion,
Putting your life on the line,
Doing your part with noble intentions
For our great country.

You really can’t speak for others,
We all had our reasons,
Some, no doubt, were patriots,
Some, I’m sure, sought glory,
But others were just curious,
And in the face of certain obligation,
You just went and did it
And hoped for the best and all the rest.

But curiosity has its risks
And becomes like a test,
A time to see how romantic ideals
And concepts of bravery
Hold up in the real world,
One where each step may be your last,
One where curiosity is turned
To horror and worse, 
So war becomes a curse without a cure, 
Of that I’m sure.

In odd moments,
Intruding into consciousness,
I think about my service,
My participation in moral outrage,
Inflicting pain and suffering and death,
And for what?
That was never explained,
That was never decided,
There was no reconciliation,
Just a contradiction, an emptiness,
This lack of conscience,
This hole in my being 
Where innocence was lost,
Where is neither denial nor acceptance,
No penance or absolution,
Just unending spiritual limbo,
Not wanting to hear some
Well meaning person
Tell me I made them proud.