Veteran re-write. Temptation claws at a young man's core A rifle sits cross-legged between trembling fingertips Bullets rattle as his head does Noise too loud Generals too proud His eyes, black Above warpaint on brown skin Dart between the space before him. Shots stab the air A comrade falls Her shirt changing colors quicker than a reloading Fear so plainly Staining Her pallid face. What a waste. A too fast beat emerges from his heart As the field before him falls apart. Temptation, adrenaline Course through an old man's core He remembers everything The blood The gore. A rifle sits in the corner, cross legged, Swinging to a too fast heartbeat Sweating though there's no sign of heat Darting eyes, trembling fingertips, brown skin painted in PTSD, Forced to keep still as his memories fade The death of a battle-born hero.

Torched It was one of those nights. The neighbors were yelling, Mom was asleep Dad wasn't home. My brother Jeremy was reading in his room The#moonwas out I was alone. We lived in a complex that was Three stories high Two apartments each floor. No pets were allowed And a homeless man Slept by the front door. Each family had One key One refrigerator, one porch. Most people were out or in bed When our complex Got torched. A scream silenced The room we were Next to Then smoke from below Traveled to the window And through I coughed Called for Jeremy He ran as fast as he could We found The escape Our mom never would. It was one of those nights The neighbor's died in their dwelling Mom stayed asleep Dad wasn't home. My brother Jeremy heard the sirens The#moonglistened bright The men got us out We were alone.

Veteran Temptation claws at a young man's core A rifle sits in his hands His eyes, blue Above warpaint on brown skin Dart between the space before him. Adrenaline crawling through each inch of skin A beat speeding in his heart His hands, gripping a weapon with trembling fingertips Forced to keep still, steady. Shots stabbing the previous silence A comrade falls beside him Her shirt changing colors quicker than a reloading Fear so plainly on her cold face. Temptation, adrenaline, intimidation Course through an old man's core A rifle sits in the corner, cross legged, swinging to a too fast heartbeat Darting eyes, trembling fingertips, brown skin painted in PTSD, Forced to keep still as his memories fade The death of a battle-born hero. #RawWriteWednesday

The Misadventures Of An Adventurer-5 Running faster at every stop sign Through memories of hissing sea And mountain tops, Shows of stars And abandoned fields With stories untold, She had stories now to tell. Home with Sunday winds Old men in sweater vests And royalty weeded around blonde curls On top of a red dress Under forest eyes Looking at white feet In needy grass. A mother's concern ringing from a broken window The clothesline solitary in the sky The sun dressed in gold, No curtain of cloud to hide behind Checkered cloth in a warm hand The misadventures of an adventurer.

The Misadventures Of An Adventurer-4 Blue substance Caressing wood legs Under a platform Built by brotherhood. Foam hissing Disappearing Reappearing With new sound. Scent of travel Resting on Small waves Made by Mother Nature. Peacekeeper sea Wondering eyes On top of a world Separate from another. Tempting edge Breathing bliss A possible escape That would not be taken.