Uniform Trauma Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Uniform trauma

Uniform trauma is a killer!
Uniform trauma is a killer!
Uniform trauma is a killer!

Trauma's origin,
Is a wound in Greek
But the badly misused,
To talk of the great pain.

Trauma, as I learned,
Reflects the trace that remains,
Of a wound in the heart or brain,
Upon the sighting, remembrance…

Some call me a veteran
I hate that…

That takes me on a tour
Of dreams and childhood
To my needs and manhood.

Uniforms haunted us,
The cadets, very young,
Not because of our love
But because needed jobs.

I never thought of wars
In my days, nor at night,
I hated shedding blood.

The soldiers are puppets,
Abused in the ugly games,
Planned by the warmongers
And the dirty politicians.

I witnessed three wars,
Pakistan's and Dhofar,
As well as the Iraq-Iran!

Happily, out of touch
I was with killer guns.

But still, feel the guilt,
We flew the logistics,
Carrying soldiers, guns
And most of the supply.

We took men standing,
Brought bags on returning,
And caskets, and stretchers.

Uniforms to me are monsters,
The military or police, regardless.

Uniform trauma is a killer
Like the pains of slaves
Stolen, tied, and shackled.

Uniform trauma is a killer
Like what felt the Indians,
Lied to, and then insulted.

Uniform trauma is a killer
Like the pain of women
Forbidden to give birth.

Uniform trauma is a killer
Like the pain of parents
Sixties' scoops, in reserve.

Uniform trauma is a killer
Like the pain of Hussein,
A hungry laborer, prisoner.

The soldiers, NCOs, officers,
Are fooled by the word "Veteran"
For shedding blood, and murders.

Read about the returning soldiers
From wars, genocide, and terror.

Uniform trauma is a killer!
Uniform trauma is a killer!
Uniform trauma is a killer!