Wounded

Jul 28, 2019

 by Ryan Webb

Heard this poem by Johnny Cash. It spoke to me. 

We're in the church house kneeling down

We're in the subways, underground

We're in the bars and on the street

We drive a truck, we walk a beat

We're in the mills and factories

We make the steel, we cut the trees

A thousand yards stare as a glass

But we will see you when you pass

 

We lost our homes, we lost our dreams

All our goals have turned to schemes

We hurt each other and ourselves

So after long traumatic spells

 

We are the walking wounded

 

We cried out from the deepest pit

But rise back up each time we're hit

We fell from power and from grace

Resurrection's in our face

We're just like little girls and boys

We play with grown up toys

We never thought of sink or swim

My brother hurts me so I hurt him

 

We are the walking wounded

 

Like a circle, round and round

We go up so we come down

We don't explain or apologise

We pull the veil across our eyes

We see through your fake refrain

We won't let you see our pain

You may not know us but you'll see

There are more than you'd believe

 

We are the walking wounded

Mr. Cash was commenting on his thoughts of men returning from the Vietnam war. 

All of us struggle. Those struggles are not always evident to others. 

If we can show more compassion to others, to ourselves, to our children. 

Not only does the world become a better place. We have peace and happiness.