War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

I lied for you

I lied for you, I lied for you
you asked me to find your mom,
so I sought her, on the Boardwalk,
I saw him, I saw your son outside the wire
and he was okay, really okay I said,
she leaned across the counter in KAF
where she’d got a job slinging double doubles
just to be near you, to try and understand
what compelled her brown-eyed boy,
to wander a desert four tours in Afghanistan;
she wept, he’s a good boy, he’s a good boy yes he is I said, though I knew
what you had to do with hands outside the wire,
I didn’t bother to tell her that when the boys weren’t around
you told me you hated yourself, the country, your job,
he’s a good boy I assured your mom, he’s really well
I lied for you, didn’t tell her last time I sited your pupils,
they, you, were dead, dead, dead centred bullseyes.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled I lied for you. It was posted here on March 26, 2012.


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