Why do they look at me that way?

This is a poem about PTSD titled Why do they look at me that way? that I wrote a few years back when I was first diagnosed with PTSD. Obviously people do not always look at you like youve just escaped from the local nut house, but on occasion you get some strange looks like when I have had panic attacks in public or in the supermarket, so I wrote `Why do they look at me that way?` to make that point. Above is the Sir Galahad in flames after it was attacked when my missles failed to fire, I wrongly blamed myself for their deaths for many years.



Why do they look at me that way?
"He's not all there", I've heard them say
Leave me alone you faceless folk
To fight in war it ain't no joke
I've lost my wife my job my friends
Was it all worth it ,that all depends
I don't know why I feel this way
I took my oath I did obey
I killed because I was scared to die
By blowing those Sky hawks from the sky
Those retard bombs they drove us mad
They sent us on the Galahad
The screams of the dying, twisted metal shards
A floating burning hell of dead Welsh Guards
I did not cry for them that day
Why do they look at me that way?
My brain recorded events for me
I seem to torture myself with glee
In the capital Stanley we drank ourselves sober
The Sergeant Major said "The party is over."
They sent us back to our home shore
Amongst our families we were still fighting our own war
It's nearly twenty five years since we won the day
Those painful memories just wont go away
I love my Country and my brothers in arms
On November the 11th I'll sing hymns and psalms
I will wear my medals with pride on that day
The only day of the year they don't look at me that way.





© Mack (RG)"Every day feels like the day of a funeral"