Poetry

Patriot

I’ve never been much of a patriot;
or particularly nationalistic for that matter.
My hand is not iron cast to my forehead
in undying salute,
nor my finger pressed up against
a trigger.
I have however served overseas,
in an arduous world of introspection.
With desolate deserts of Pakistan,
and engulfing jungles of Vietnam.
Where the largest muscle I flex,
is the one of being perfectly content
with my own company.

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