The New Solider Poem by Lois doyle

The man walked past her in a hurry;
No one around her knew her fate.
Or her past.
How she screamed to be another.
How she fell every time she seemed to rise.
Lost among these people that pretend along with her.
They dance only to impress and to try to forget.
But they know nothing of whom they are trying to impress.
They dance to a beat that slips through their minds.
It doesn’t mean anything to them to hear the words.
They stay together.
Losing each other one by one;
Bridge by knife,
Pillow by rope.
Until one child finally stood to help them.
Look them in their lost eyes,
And try to awake them from the mourners they’ve become.
I was younger,
But somehow stronger.
I could dance to a song and write the notes in my mind,
Maybe some in my heart.
I was set on a broken road with only a nail to fix it.
I thought some would come,
But no one stood with me;
I stood alone,
Taller then everyone else.
My accomplishment meant nothing to me,
Only theirs.
Surprisingly they walked with me,
Along side of me.
All along they had been screaming not to be someone else;
But to find someone else.
And how they danced changed over the days and weeks.
I sometimes spotted them crack a smile from behind their wall.
And now four years later,
I ask them for advise.