THE BARMAN

You stare at your reflection, on the polished walnut bar, but the sad eyes gazing back can´t tell them who you are.
So you nod towards the Barman, and flick you´re empty glass, and resigned to getting drunk, you rest your trainers on the Brass.

Nicotine stained fingers scratch the stubble on yer chin, five days growth of beard, hides the pain within,
you growl at the barman "make it a double, as the barman walks on past, as you reach into your pocket, you know that this will be your last.

"Looks like you need this" says the barman with a smile "like to talk it over, i´ll sit with you a while"
so you talk about the weather and the local football team, but you´re heart just isn´t in this no matter how polite you seem.

You start to make excuses, as you finish off your "Grouse", but the barman pours another, and says " this ones on the house"
You´re starting to get angry with all this mundane "gab", and you´re tired hands are shaking, as you light up one more tab.

The irritation passes, as you draw the smoke in deep, but the taste of the "Virginia" can´t make up for lack of sleep,
Then you realize he´s watching that you´ve drifted off again and once more the panic rises, that you might of gone insane.

These black spots seem more frequent, since the tablets run out and sometimes the merest whisper thunders through like a shout,
but the barman´s smiling friendly, and you know you need not fret, cos this guy has a knowing look, like he knows that you´re a Vet.

"I´ve seen you´re sort in here before" is his very next remark, "you army lads alway´s walk in here, as it´s becoming dark"
"you crawl into a bottle, to forget all you´re hates"," and you drown out your all the memories, of the men you once called mate´s"

"So come on lad just tell us, I´ve heard the tales before" "of the Falklands and Northern Ireland, tell me what it was you saw"
so you babble out your story, then hang your head and sigh,
"Cos you know that you´ve got problems", when the barman starts to cry.

ITWOOLLEY
Veteran Falklands, N.Ireland, Gulf war, Bosnia
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2015
About this poem:
This poem explains the Problems that Servicemen and Women suffer with when returning from War Zones, it´s about Guilt and PTSD, and just how stressed these wonderful people become.

War is a fact, but suffering is not an illusion.
ITWOOLLEY

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Comments (2)

commando59
This is a poem to educate the people of what the Armed Forces and Police Force and Firemen go through in everyday life, these people were normal people one moment, and then they are Scarred for life, memories and nightmare´s are an existence of life.
beautifulyou
Deep, deep, deep peace.
ty for sharing rose
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on Feb 2015
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