Survivor's Sonnet

A brittle, dessicated kind of life

That has been weakened outdoors in the sun

Near deafened by the cannon, drum, and fife;

A throat that’s silent, now the screaming’s done.

This is my life, my body, after you.

You pushed me to exceed my own ability.

My brain’s burnt out; my limbs burned black and blue

You broke my pride, changed outrage to humility.

What did you gain from this? I’m useless now,

Disdained, discarded, like some splintered toy;

You won’t confirm, deny, much less allow

My question: Did you ever love your boy?

Alas! It matters not. I shan’t recover,

And you’re already tormenting another.