Sep 28 2008
The pen is mightier
The pen is mightier than the sword was reconfirmed to me a few months ago. I had been dealing with some frustration with my husband’s drinking and partying since he came home from Iraq. I know he is dealing with things I can not comprehend; but you can not drown them at the bar. Even when you’re hugging the toilet bowl puking up half the liquor store, they will still rear their ugly head. Putting pen to paper as I often do to release my frustrations, I wrote for a while and eventually ended with the following poem.
Forgotten
Who are we but your family?
Always in the background we stand
As days go by, we wait and wait
For the gentleness that once came from your hand
Now are we just a memory
As you are too busy being the band
Nothing will pause your gait
There’s an itch for the pool stick in your hand
How boring is this family?
Who can’t compare with a beer in your hand
Today is now yesterday and it’s too late
To make the call across this great land
Oh how we’re forgotten so easily
Wow we must be bland
For we don’t even spark any hate
Just get brushed off like specks of sand
To my shock and amazement my husband actually read my poem. I think it hit home more than any of my begging, pleading, and crying had. His depression, grief and need for lack of responsibility won out in the end but it actually seemed to improve things for a little while. Just for that little bit, the pen was mightier than the sword.
It is so very sad how they come home changed. It seems like the things (people) who gave them hope and a reason to live now are a shame to them. Many of them need help they are not getting.