When your journey ends you’ll be looking in the mirror.
Many call it the 1000 yard stare and can't imagine the pain when PTSD takes us there.
This isn't a poem it's a message for you
to let you know all the pain you put me through.
How did I ever let you get in my Heart and my head.
All I have left is your image on celluloid.
Now that you’ve gone my heart stands void.
As I look in the album at pictures of you,
Look deep in a mirror and you may not see
the way your face looks exactly to me.
Now that I’ve said this, what goes through your mind
I quit looking for knowledge when I left high school,
armed with the letters, numbers and the Golden Rule.
Along with the wisdom of my Father who’s gone
Insanity lives just one door away
from the drug induced reality in which I stay.
The psychiatrists amuse me with their alchemy.
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