Ventricle

When a soldier deploys to war,

He goes to a country with

Bombs and bullets, and wears

Kevlar body armor, with plates,

A ballistic chest plate covering

His heart,

And when a soldier patrols a town,

He carries his M4, like a limb, and

Enters compounds made of sand,

With corridors that wind around

Like arteries and veins.

He knocks down doors, each one,

A valve, and inside, this chamber,

A dark room, with families inside,

Women, children, and men,

Men who say, this is our home,

Pointing to it,

The darkness that surrounds them,

This room where they live,

A ventricle, and the land outside,

Afghanistan,

Full of blood,

Like a heart.

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