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Afghanistan

7/14/2021

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​Finally going home.
It has been a long year,
leaving a foreign land
where I saw things
that I never
thought I would.
 
Hoped I would not
get scarred like the others.
The ones that were there
before my tour arrived.
I heard their crying for home,
moaning and fighting
in the nightmares
the night shared.
 
That was a life
I became afraid of
under the sky of Afghanistan.
 
I went over as support
for the new foreign government
providing arms for humanitarian
relief and operations.
Seemed like I would be away
from the fighting and killing.
 
The sights are now
playing in my mind
when I close my eyes.
 
Saw remains of families
taken away by the violence.
Mother’s holding onto
their husbands after death.
Crying children when
homes were bombed away.
 
Destruction by us
or the Taliban,
I will never know.
The memories are chaotic
under fire.
 
Carried friends back to camp
not knowing if they
would live or die.
Enemy or friendly fire,
who knew in the confusion.
More than once
I thought I took the shot.
 
Breathing deep, almost home
carrying invisible baggage.
I have no one to talk to
about the shakes
or the substances
I started using to forget
Afghanistan.
 
June 16, 2021
@Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021
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  • About Andrew Scott
  • Poetry
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