The Group

Allow me to introduce myself

and, perhaps,

if I ever come back again

to re-introduce myself

like the Jay-Z

of lost souls

hoping to be saved.

 
I don’t really know why I’m here.

It feels like the right place to go.

I’ve visited others before

but this time, years later,

I visit myself.

 
I don’t know these people

I’m not sure I want to be

one of them

but they welcome me

anyway.

The bold voice of a Veteran

commanding

“Let her speak.”

 
The tattoo sticks out

beneath the shirt sleeve

a simple phrase

of angst?

of rebellion?

of standing for something

bigger than oneself.

 

I’d share the words here

but I don’t want to

blow his cover

just in case someone else

recognizes the tattoo

or the story behind it.

Maybe it’s their story, too?

 
Sometimes you have to

seek it out yourself.

Let them speak.

Listen.

Nod.

Laugh.

Cry.

A combination

of all of the above.

 

Wave goodbye in the parking lot.

See you when I see you.

Until we meet again.

This group.

Maybe one more

maybe one less

next time,

if there even is

a next time.

 

Nevertheless

we’ll still be

THE Group.

 

 

No Rules Poetry

 

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