He that trod upon subservient Europe
with the imperial guards' fighting prowess,
did himself and his heartthrob the empress,
entrench thrones jointly owned by their hookup.
He that caused guns to rage on Europe's plains
and cannons to thunder on Egypt's sands,
sent hussars and mamluks to distant flight.
He usurped crowns for his dear siblings' gains,
and enthroned loyalists to head vanquished lands.
But was banished for good from France's sight
after a stunning loss on Belgium's plains.

What happened is certainly enough to appall.
I'm in the Army and I was forced to go AWOL.
I am disgusted by what happened and it's hard to believe.
Even though my brother was dying, they wouldn't give me leave.
I wanted to see my brother one last time before he died.
I plead with my superiors to give me leave but I was denied.
When it came to my late brother, I thought the world of him.
I went AWOL to be by his side and to tell him that I love him.
Now I'm facing a Court Martial, I'm in trouble indeed.
They turned their backs on me in my hour of need.
Now they're treating me like I committed a horrible crime.
But at least I was able to tell my brother that I love him in time.
A Court Martial and time in prison are what I'll probably receive.
But my superiors were cruel and despicable for not giving me leave.

I left to defend our home,
I left to defend what was right,
But when I came back,
I was broken
                         and you knew.

You saw the fires of passion,
The light of my desires,
The warmth of my smile.
Yet when I came back they were gone.

You knew that what I'd seen,
What I had done
In those rolling hills of sand and rock
Broke me, and yet you did nothing.

I gave my heart and soul to you,
You gave me a child with it.
But now I don't know.
Whether it was mine or not.

You were my home,
Yet when I came back
You turned around and closed the door.
Now I look through a window.

And watch as my daughter
Doesn't even recognize me.
She's afraid of me
And I don't know why.

And that.
That is what leaves me shattered.
It makes all those horrors come alive.
Everything I thought I had left behind.

I don't see myself in the mirror,
I see what I was,
I see all the people whose lives
Ended with the reflection in my eyes.

I see my brother's and my sisters,
Not by blood but by Creed,
I see the innocents that caught
Between us and those against us.

And I can see the pity in their eyes.
Now I know who really got lucky,
It wasn't me but them.
For they don't have any worries.

They left those for the ones who survived,
They cried as they left us,
I cried because I couldn't save them,
And now I cry because no one can save me.

My resolve becomes thinner each day,
I stopped myself once,
But my time is near.
I will join you soon.

For there is nothing left for me here.
No loved ones left.
No one who would chase away my demons.
No one to anchor me.

This is no longer my home.
But I'll be there soon...
I loved you more than you know.
This will be my goodbye...
                                                 One day.

If you have never,
Lived across the waters,
Strange terrain, from,
Our homeland,
The brotherhood & memories,
You may never understand,
The hell, our veterans, lived,
For us making many stands,
Living, training, fighting,
Together,
For the people & our land.

Good friends, by their side,
When ever fireworks started,
Many fell, like flies,
The hardest one's to swallow,
Those who never had A chance,
To say good by.

A Thank You, and Honor,
To All Veterans.


Tom Maxwell copyright 2/25/2019 AD 6:00 PM 1800 HR

The wolf.

Born into a world dark and cold. Raised to show no fang or claw. The wolf joined the pack, trained to use the fangs and claws long sealed away. But the wolf was pushed aside, left by the pack. Told to live on its own, to wear the clothes of a man. No matter how much the wolf tried, it could not fit so it gnawed and it gashed at itself; but to no avail. But then it realized: A wolf in man's clothing is still a wolf.  

A wolf is a wolf until it dies, it can be nothing else.

i think he was a delivery guy
building four, number 2
across the walk

a moped with one of those
cage attachments
for carrying food
or packages
or whatever

one time i brought over a
loose hammer found near
his bike and caught a
glimpse through the door

gray couch,
folding chairs,
table full of wires
nothing out of the ordinary
same layout as ours

white Hats barreled in
before we could react
the dog was first
then my brother
then me

guess they had some bad intel

A weapon that’s finely honed—
not more than a wire, a knife.
Nowhere on Earth I belonged,
until you invaded my life.

Around me, your arms wrap with comfort;
warmth spreading; hold’s steady, no effort.

Throughout, all’s familiar, safe.
My self (for what I always longed)—
no longer a weapon, a knife—
a man, fully, finally owned.

A boy, aged eight
Asked his father a question.
"Was my birthdate,
The cause of your depression?"
The father only watched the boy
Which started to annoy
The child's thoughts
Like PTSD and gunshots.

A boy aged ten
Asked his mother the same question;
She said it was war, then
That it woke his inner aggression.
She said it probably took his soul
And one day again he'd be whole

A man aged eighteen's
asked a question by his parents
"Are you proud to have those genes?
And to be in our presence?"
He didn't have words to describe
The emotions he tried to hide.
He always sought recognition,
Not their judgemental superstition.
He wanted them to be proud,
But as expected, he bowed.

He left their presence, knowing:
That his entire life, he was growing.
To be able to handle the truth,
About his entire youth.
He was never adored or respected
His parents were to be represented
By him, and that was his goal;
NO! I Did not sell my soul

Your reputation, is not my responsibility
My future is
You can't accept that,
And I understand now.
It's time for me to leave,
This toxic representation
Of a Home