“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.


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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