Vet-ERR-ran

I saw a tree that looked like blankets were thrown over the branches.

It made me think of the starving, desperate ignored heroic veterans-sleeping on pavement, built from contracted sins, that allow us to profit from judging and pretending to repent.

I thought of the grinch. And how easily those trees would fit in. Then I came back to reality. No matter how positive I try to be I have to be real about what I see. Another epidemic the world refuses to acknowledge.

Fiends, lost minds, frail skeletons inhaling air like a last meal. Skin sagging-over the weight of life. Trying to remain strong to protect families. Losing what makes them whole without knowing. Forced to kill their inner child-playing with toys that release laughter, tantrums, cries, temper, and wisdom. A simple easy life, complicated by adult insight.

Why are we always at war to control what is not ours?

One rule seems to be followed when creating America’s Veteran—one holds all the power and drains the others sense.

The drug of honor and loyalty creates addicts, relying on the enemy of self to make it easy to feel less—a normal life under this flag we struggle and fight to wave. People get mad when they hear that, as if veterans should be thankful for being discarded by the people, they risked their lives for.

But I know, it’s not yours. I’m just a story you all, everyone, everybody knows. A warning shot, telling you don’t get too close.

You remember? When the wind blew a whisper, and the scent tickled your nose? That day you stopped and admired that person, normally disgusting but that day, they had the same burden bearing shoulders of your dead brother, teenage son or father.

Remember when you fell to your knees when the crazy lady carrying the worlds baggage reminded you of your mother? You pretended you were tying your shoes and hid the seriousness of your pain and injury. Just like a veteran who no longer uses mirrors to see-ignoring faces and words.

The disgust for others is more honest than what we show to ourselves.

Why are these issues not talked about?

Because it promotes you to a problem. The only rank thrown out. The one people turn their nose at and refuse to help or be around-like the convict’s people shun until they need one under their belt.

Now you see what those other people feel. The ones who sing the blues at night so their skin stays hidden. They know through highs, lows, good times and bad, struggle and success- we are all we have.

I didn’t look up the name of that tree. If you see it, you will understand. But you will probably ignore it like your conscience screaming to do the right thing under the moans of what ruins home and the love you always wanted.