“Oh God – tomorrow I go back…”

I have one full day, one day, before I return myself to the melting pot, the exchange of pain. I overdramatise.

When I was at school, we had four Houses, one of which was “Spender” – Richard Spender, the Second World War (note my capitalisation) poet – who once, or so we were always taught, wrote a poem entitled “Embarkation Leave” which finished with the line “Oh God… tomorrow I go back”. I have never quite been able to track down a copy, but the line has stayed with me from my schooldays. Do I overdramatise when I apply a line written in wartime, to a return to my own working, living, active life? I often wonder. And this self-investigation I have applied constantly over the years, never quite knowing from time to time how far I am overdramatising, am distorting or defiling the poetry of a man at war.

I will never be a man at war. I will, quite simply, always be a coward. Lazy. A failure.

And what worries me more than any pain or fear or sorrow, is that from time to time, that’s fine.

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About dcduell

Failed musician. Trying to write for TV. Never sure quite where I'm headed. Serial un-funnyman. I used to do a lot of writing. Sometimes I still do. So I decided to put it on the internet. I'm on Facebook and Twitter. Pretty active on the former, not so much on the latter. Holler at me.
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