A Purple Heart For A Soul

I'm no hero, I'm not even a man  
I sold my soul for a Purple Heart.  

I'm not brave, I'm only broken  
after using my bayonet to stop a man's heart.  
 
I'm not proud, my lungs are shredded  
from Agent O to smokes all day.  
 
Keeps the memories of fear abated  
so I can work and function each day.  
 
I can't even think of the horror  
I caused to that poor man's family.  
 
But all for a cause that was rewarded  
with scars and loss of dignity.  
 
I'm still in a trench each day I'm breathing  
shallow breaths and a mind still bleeding.  
 
When will it end, this tortured battle  
war was won but I'm still fighting it.  
 
When I die young, give the medal to my loved ones  
to sit on a shelf, a token of our accomplishment.  
 
So they can know the great man who won at losing  
as a wife-beating drunkard, less than a man  
 
Who had a Purple Heart for a soul.  
 
(Based on a true story)