Cinders

We never thought we'd become
fallen after returning home
from the Middle East wars,
our youthful bodies slowly
smothered,
our lungs labored,
cancers crept in.

Our own U.S. government's
shattered promise to take
care of us.
We were exposed to the
burn pits on the U.S. bases
in Iraq/Afghanistan.
They were angry red and
orange behemoths,
larger than a football field,
a pyro's dream, our nightmare.

Poison plastics, chemicals
in the devilish roaring fires,
seared our sore throats,
no protective gear,
Death's stealing presence
even in our own barracks,
as the soot slithered serpentine
into our air conditioning units.

Damn, Uncle Sam,
your misery is in your lies,
we were wounded living ghosts.
We entered the imposing monolithic
VA system, so many of us denied.
How could our own brass do this
to us?!
We were expendable to them,
we came back to the U.S.
betrayed.

Some of us were runners that
could run no more,
our spouses, our children
bled grief.
After our deaths the PACT Act
finally passed,
such an insult to our worth.
The American flag covered
us in her consolation.

We had hopeful dreams,
now we are buried neath
well-kept lawns with
cooing mourning doves
and white marble epitaphs
In undying presence.
Our souls welcomed to
Eden's fragrance where
we can breathe deep,
immortal from the cinders. ~