No going back

I will not go back, I will not go back
I will not go back
because my mother died when I was a child
and my father became so absent he might as well have left at the same time

it is not as if there was a family left around which to gather and share lives, hurts and hopes
because looking after myself became my only hope

it is not as if there was a safe front door I could walk through any time of day or night
because the front door was closed and I was not offered a key

it is not as if there was an alternative refuge which I could call my own
because he gave any potential space away along with everything else

it is not as if there was a paternal welcome ever awaiting me
because he usually didn't even bother to show up

no, I will not go back. I will not go back
I will not go back
because now he is dead even the false hope has gone

In death

Every soldier, once a child (family archive).
The lips are thin their colour grey
the hair is dull and lank
the skin is pallid
tugor at bay
the smell is fetid, rank
the wound is swollen
putrid, reddened
exposed are tissue and bone
what man lies here
dead and neglected?
what inspired him to roam?

the war that left him lying here
alone on hardened ground
did abandon him
as all wars will
to his silence amongst
the furious sound

what home did he leave?
what cause was his?
that left him so cold and pale
so far from where he began
so distant from a family’s wail
with no one to grieve his lost soul
with none to respectfully lay him deep

we will take him to yet another hole
we will bury him amongst the others
in yet another heap

Poetry days #15.