Treatment

When I'm through
Paradise
Stay in my field
Of view
I'm a med head
Without
Fed false hope
Who knew?
My mind is
A swivel chair
That lost its wheels.
The secondhand in
This card game
That's forced to deal
Shatter my reflection
Of the Devil's appeal
My hands are
Still holding
A void I feel
Holding a void so real
Empty but so full
That can't be more surreal

Tell me if you know
How long this war will go
I'm trapped in my scars
A vet who never came home

Pain
Feels like it's all
That's left to gain
You can have so
Much in profit
But what's in
Pocket
Can't change
The spirit in
A world so gothic
The pen is
A first aid kit
There's a healing
In my planner
For this battlefront
That has no
Bedside manner
Or the real
True answers
The real true
Answers that they
Think is in
The blood of their
Waving banner

No medal of honor
In this place
There's a fallen
Soldier on my
Face
And still I try
To make it out
Alive

Been waking up
Everyday
To see a difference
That's more than
I could say for
Young boys dead
Next to forensics
In a homeland
Where they wanna
Pave a war path
Then forget about
Fighters
In the aftermath
People surround me
They're walking mummies
Falling over
Each hurdle
When I die
These words live
On
This work of
Art is immortal
So I'll write
It all down
While they marvel
The essence
And run it
Back again
For future reference