PTSD Poetry


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He licked my eye balls in 82
To stop the tears from coming through
Ripped part of my soul away that day
He wants the rest, his evil pay
Killing was the name of the game
Man against man
Its still the same
When the last grain sand falls from my life
He will be back with his big long knife
Stronger he gets by the day
As man kills man on an industrial scale
I have looked into the bowls of hell
There is no flames there is no smell
He is all around he is in your face
The bogey man is the human race.

© Tony McNally

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