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Poetry Corner Valerie Ellis This is a poem I wrote with personal experience of supporting a Veteran who is struggling with his Employers. Highly qualified and talented, the organisation is totally unsupportive and has no understanding of their obligation regarding the Forces Covenant. His personal journey I am sure reflects many ex forces who go into Civvie life highly qualified but the impact of PTSD and subsequent health issues are not recognised. <strong>The</strong>y have no clue, What I been through <strong>The</strong>y fail to understand. <strong>The</strong>y do not try To see my why And fail to comprehend. My pain is real It’s so surreal <strong>The</strong>y fail to understand. I did my duty Tall and Proud Though my own world Passed into Cloud. My daughter, wife Were faced with strife But I still served. I left them both As duty called That’s what we do But now they want to Lecture me On my new reality I struggle with my civvie life But have the skills to save a life Why don’t they just Give me a break Stop waving rule books In my face. I won’t give up my fight Because I know I’m right. If they won’t listen, make amends, I will move on, wont sing their song <strong>The</strong>y are not my friends. I’m strong Look out In Memory Of Sons And Brothers Letter writing every day Five of them had gone astray Lost to us our Brothers dear Mother never gave up hope <strong>The</strong>n pain it seemed hard Tolled so much to carry on But what of us so small? We battled through it all But finally it proved too much Our Mother passed away in pain Our loss and never knowing What of them became Our Father couldn’t cope you see He died they said, so what of we Were sent away and separated Family life was dissipated But then I knew he had not died But sent away they all had lied He couldn’t cope you see And had to flee to sanctuary POETRY CORNER In memory of a wonderful Nan, and all those who lost their lives in WW1 - Valerie Ellis PTSD By Valerie Ellis Sights and sounds and smell, Body parts, this place is hell. Missiles, guns, attacks all round, <strong>The</strong>n silence and there is no sound. On drugs and drink, no sleep In debt, in rehab, noises creep. Help for Heroes pitied me, But could not help you see. Getting clean, was my way out, One day, my life was turned about. 2 Missionaries that had followed me, Came to my rescue, they could see. I needed help, or woe is me, My saviours, they turned out to be. I knew, at last, what I must do, So, with their help, I saw it through. <strong>No</strong>w clean, I moved again to ask, For help as I did in the past. Help for Heroes welcomed me, Support I had that set me free. <strong>No</strong>w I have found my place in life, Through all the struggle and the strife. From Military, to Civvy Street, From a dark place, I came to meet. Myself, at last, as Priest. www.sandbagtimes.co.uk 43 |