Hell Unknown Poem by Logan Ackerley

I don't want to be worshipped.
I am not a hero.
If our positions had been flipped
Your eyes would fill with tears so
I gladly do what I came for.

While you sit on the ocean's shore
Watching your kids and the seeds you've sown.
I just sit on my cold dirt floor
And I endure a Hell unknown.

The pain I feel, you can't comprehend.
If not for my training, I'd surely be dead.
They come every time my bones start to mend
To get information out of my head.

I know what I must say
Only my name and rank.
So my brothers live another day
Inside some crowded tank.

The pain overtakes.
My leg starts to bend.
And as my leg breaks
I shout it again...

'My name is John Young
You'll learn nothing from me
I will hold my tongue
First class sergeant you see.'

Now here I lay
Bone piercing skin.
What will I say
If I see you again?

Maybe 'How could you do that?
Just give up on me?
You sat in your office
I couldn't stand up to pee.

I've come to know
The meaning of 'Hell.'
I know the pain.
I know the smell.'

Maybe that day will come
When I tell you how I feel.
But my body's going numb
And that's the only thing that's real.