Home Again, But Not the Same

He stepped off the train in the morning rain. Worn-out boots and a borrowed

cane. Eyes like shadows, stories untold. Just twenty-three, but feeling old.

Mama ran with tears in her eyes. He forced a smile,

tried to hide the cries. But silence followed him, like a friend's.

One that stayed, and would not end. I'm home again. But not

the same. Left a boy, came back with pain. The war is

done. The guns are stilled. I'm home again.

But not the same. Left a boy, came back with