The Soldier by Tre Kelly
No man knows how a broken soul may come about until it is his own.
Like an elephant kept restrained by a stake out of fear of it being a great oak
Or a small child ordered into obedience,
Capture never results from a lack of strength.
I am haunted by the limits of a broken soul,
By the silent clatter of metal and twine
That is never scraped by an elephant’s hulking feet
Or the soldier forever swaddled by his teacher.
Broken, I let my loyal opposition fester
Until my twine-bound mind is as free as my body.