Finally over, we returned from war, <br />I went to see her, our love was no more. <br /> <br />Broken, tattered and barely sane, <br />Losing my first love, by far the worst pain. <br /> <br />I wander the streets distorted and torn, <br />Losing her was so difficult to morn. <br /> <br />I search for work and for something to be, <br />Rejection comes swift and life becomes harder to see. <br /> <br />Nightmares and horrors haunt me as I sleep in my bed, <br />I grip my gun tightly as I raise it to my head. <br /> <br />The phone rings, my brother asks why? <br />This isn’t life, I want to die! <br /> <br />Walking and falling, a bottle in one hand, <br />As I dreamt of good times back in the sand. <br /> <br />I talked to my friends and saw their lives are just as bad <br />Leaving the fight, the glory, made us mad. <br /> <br />Later we, conversed and all sought to meet, <br />To go on fighting, to pick up our feet. <br /> <br />They took us soldiers out of the war, <br />But the war remains still, knocking on our door. <br /> <br /> <br />Hldr. Gonçalves <br /> <br />842<br /><br />Daniel Goncalves<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-return-34/