Soldier

I rise each morning with the intentions of a soldier,

Simply making it through another day 

Without being fired upon by the careless hands of others, 

Their intentions straying far from my own.

I smile and make small talk because this is my nature, 

Accepting compliments by strangers 

Who have only spent a few moments in my presence, 

As I unknowingly offend those who have spoken my name much longer. 

Their words are like fiery red steel 

Piercing through the exterior of an armored suit 

That has been through much worse, 

But has long exceeded its expiration date. 

When the day is done 

I retreat to the shelter of a darkened room 

Silenced by intimidating fear 

Where outward appearances hold no value 

And the remnants of rusted armor lie scattered across the floor, 

Echoes of angry voices repeating in my head 

As the sweetness in every sip slowly renders them forgotten.-