Faye Sizemore

GROUNDED ANGELS

They have stood on foreign lands
… with weary… rifle calloused hands
and returned home to the old ways
Some finding now… no sunny days

Not for some… ever… anymore…
carrying these tokens of war
Walking always under a clouded sky
wondering in their heart… why… why

Can someone replace their broken wings
Are they on a list of non-repairable things
… these men of sad eyes and sleepless nights
… recalling… chilling tales of deadly fire-fights

Their happiness and sleep should not be a chore
There must be a way… somewhere an open door
Pray that above the clouds… soon they may soar
… leaving behind the ravages of time… and war