Wounded children grown now
Looking behind doors before
Going to bed at
Night they tuck themselves
Under the covers shivering
With fear wondering if
Tonight the nightmares will
Be averted.

The monsters come creeping in
Shadows slinking through
Dreams reaching out and
Touching the wounded ones who
Only want peace and quiet just
Some rest and tranquility some
Serenity some calm and they
Awaken in a cold
Sweat, shaken to
The core.

Disjointed thoughts and
Dreams and nightmares of
Dayfrights and terrors of
Bad things to come and take
The good times, slim though
They are, away from
The wounded ones, destroying
The small patches of
Good things that
We have managed to
Create for
Ourselves in our
Daily lives.

And our monsters live on not
Caring what they did to
Us not concerned because they
Are inhuman and inhumane
They have no souls
No hearts no humanity
They tried to strip our
Dignity our sanity our
Reality from us and we
Shook and we rocked and we
Cracked some under the
Pressure but we
Are here.

God damn it we
Are here we are
Alive living breathing and
Broke the cycle that they
Would have had us continue in
Our own children we broke
The chain they would have
Had us forge more links on
They did not win.

Battleworn we are casualties
Of war we carry scars
We are wounded sometimes
We bleed sometimes
We cry out or hide behind
Doors or under covers or
In the arms of those who
Love us seeking
Shelter from the storms
Of memory but we
Are alive always we are
Alive we
Survived the war we
Made it through.

To us then the
Medal of Honor to us
The Purple
Heart to us the
Silver Star to us
Campaign ribbons and
Awards innumerable we are
Heroes we are
Shining lights in the
Sky we are
Amazing beings
Brave and strong.