September 6, 2010
Deployment of Morale
The exhaustion of doing nothing but waiting
Is a slow poison, working on the mind while sparing
The muscles. Sitting in uniform, weapon slung,
Boots always too tight, just waiting for our flight,
Is enough to create second doubts, lower morale,
And make a soldier wish for home before he leaves.
He needs a mission, a clear goal, to know differences
Were made by the sum of his small actions:
Bringing in a prisoner, raising the wall of a home,
Fixing a generator, watching the perimeter, cooking.
What comfort can a person find in such conditions
When orders stop the usual routines of feeling loved.
Whether in the arms of another, the glass of too many,
Or the addictions of slovenly lifestyles, this denial of self
To accomplish the mission comes at what cost to our identities?
