Well, uh, hi. This is my first attempt at poetry . . . you've been warned, sorry if it's bad. :P

~C y c l e~

I am fine one minute, then I see it.

It takes me BACK, back there again

In the demented, explosive fun house

Each step must be cautious, so, so careful

I tell him that,

The fear pulsing through me,

fear for me, fear for him,

Fear for our country.

My teacher, he tells me not to worry, and he sets off.

My leader, he begins his journey to his final repose.

And he hits it

And is instantly immolated, right before me.

My eyes burn with tears, my throat is raw

From the anguished cries the harsh wind rips from it

No. No. No.

This can't be happening! No!

And then I am shaking, shivering, shuddering

Sobbing for him, absolutely horrified,

But then I return form that brief hell,

Only to find myself back at the beginning.

Safe and sound for the time being

"Fine", if I may.

But something will set it off, then I'll be

BACK, back there again.

It is a sickening cycle.

R.I.P., all the troops lost in Afghanistan during the war, and pray for all those brave men and women who were left scarred by their experience.