Stop Telling Me Its Ok Poem by Daniel Chapman

I get out of the military and I feel great,
Proud of my service, proud of the life I helped create.
But then reality hits—no job, no call,
And suddenly I feel small, almost invisible, after it all.

Everybody I know says I'd be great,
A good employee, dependable, first-rate.
But those are just friends and family,
Not the strangers behind the desk who won't even see me.

What is it they find when they glance at my resume?
Do they fear my past, afraid of what I might say?
Could it be my combat experience, the stories I hold,
Or the weight of the battles that shaped my soul?

Maybe it's my height, my strength, my stride,
Intimidating to some, causing them to slide.
Another day, another "we'll call you, "
But nothing comes, and it cuts through.

I really don't know what it is,
All I know is I'm ready, I'm willing, I'm driven.
I've led, I've fought, I've persevered, I've grown—
I've given my life for something bigger than my own.

So here I stand, proud and prepared,
Not asking for pity, only a fair share.
A chance to prove my worth, to show my skill,
To work with my hands, my heart, and my will.

Give me a shot—just one chance to shine,
To show that a soldier can excel in peace time.
I bring discipline, loyalty, courage, and more,
And I'm ready to give it all, to open every door.

I just need someone to see beyond the page,
To understand the story of a warrior off the stage.
I'm more than my uniform, more than my past,
I'm a man who's ready—let me make this chance last.