At War

When I was five years old I walked behind my parents kicking a tin can, thinking to myself "this is freedom, no mom, or dad to hold my hand, no curfew, no rules, just me kicking my imaginary grenade through the battlefield". Hearing that tin can again, rolling across the pavement, I look back twenty-four years later as if it was only a day ago and think " why did I let go of their hands, I still need someone to guide me through this war within myself"...Fighting on the inside, not enough strength to go on...