We are like the waves come crashing to shore,
Our minds are full of turbulence, our spirits are poor.
We think we can beat this PTSD,
Then we move like the wave, back out to sea.

We toss and turn with our waves growing larger,
Until they build up like a foaming charger.
We come rolling in again, full steam ahead,
The unknown is what we really dread.

At night our waves should be like those at sea,
Calm and kindred, peaceful as can be,
But then the turbulence begins to swell.
Building up, burning, like the fires in hell.

We charge in, crashing, tearing up the shore,
Nothing will survive if we churn some more.
The, just like the waves, crashing the shore,
We are left with nothing, rolling out to sea once more.

We can tell when a storm is brewing, we know far ahead,
The fear of the unknown is what we dread.
Sometimes we think, with the words unsaid,
Instead of living, we wish we were dead.

But we are strong, like the waves in the sea,
And we know dying, is not the way it should be.
So we gather up strength, like another wave,
And come crashing to shore, trying to be brave.

Some of us are strong, some of us are weak,
Like a calm wave at sea we can’t reach our peak.
We begin rolling in, then slowly fade out,
Never reaching the shore, but dying with doubt.

Ó Keith (Hacksaw) Bodine 5-Feb-2003

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