Sapper Boy

Ex-Army Boy, Sapper Boy.

Ash blonde hair and green eyes like the last viking seas. Home. But his brain, my brain, little disastrous masterpieces. Thoughts like stones that weigh like iron in the backs of our skulls. Stress like spiders that creep over skin with the overwhelming sense of fear. Panic that falls like rain in the presence of dozens.

Ex-Army Boy, Sapper Boy.

Body racked with tremors the way my heart beats on. Skin covered in ink to compensate for mine's lack. Beautiful eyes behind beautiful lashes that guard scared, beautiful minds. Minds that won't listen, can’t listen, minds that wont work, cant work. Minds that are filled with things we cannot even pronounce. But still, minds that see the magnificence in the brutality of life. Beautiful minds.

I tell him. You are a good soldier, you always will be. You are a good sapper, you always will be. You are a good man, you always will be. No matter how many falls, how many breaks, how many tremors. I tell him. My strong boy, my tall boy, my lost boy - My boy.

Ex-Army Boy, Sapper Boy.


This poem is about: 
My family
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