The Coward, or The Man Who Knew Alone

To Dr. G.D.L…; And I am astonished. That you’ve come so far inasmuch to be my undergraduate prof. Be well.

The damned thing was living in a bubbly little world where he can be a boy again. He lived in alone in his mind drowning in what couldn’t be defeat; he was living alone with the transgressions that befell him in the position and positivity of the god-head of his nature and the beauty of what surrounded him.

He had a sound mind but he couldn’t grasp the concept of otherness. He saw that things were the same in his candy-coated world; within his bread and butter he couldn’t see the difference between the colors of the weird; the extravagant the uncanny. He was fretful when people were more or less concerned over his demeanor. The tragedy that befell him during the war; the strategic planning that killed his friends made him a very crude, cruel man.

He never got what he wanted and all he needed was to go home. Tortured by his past he was a broken man who made things better by teaching for generations to promote progress in academia and growth.

A man who never gave up.

He was afraid of failing others due to his own failures. He would be known as the man who knew alone. The art of being lonely knocked on his door and he called this transgression the devil.

The war changed a fragile heart into a man who killed his comrades. The coward! The man who lived in a bubble and lived and knew only….

Alone.

A man who listens to the wind who was wounded by his afflicted past. With the dictatorship of his patriotic parenting. A man who loved the sound of slow water near the creek nearest his home.

A man who wasn’t home in his own comfort zone and learned to love again.

I don’t know what to call him. A coward or a war–monger who tried to heal others with his good natured–ness.