Is This Place Hell? Poem by Philip Lore

I hope that we can work it out,
Some things I'll never speak about.
Suffering here, I must remain,
Daily stress, monsoon rain.

Sand so deep, its hard to walk,
Stark drawn faces, white as chalk.
This war seems like it will never end,
It fills my dreams, again...and...again.

My world, my life's turned upside down,
Everyday this war rages, its all around.
Someday soon, we'll be together,
No more fighting, stormy weather.

I hope to find where I belong,
In this place, it feels so wrong.
Will I make it...I cannot tell,
From this land called Iraq...,
A living Hell.