The following is an excerpt from a poem written by Larry Wiesenauer, a Vietnam veteran suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Hero’s Grave

Psychologists think too much of their craft.

Playing mind gods they vainly, clinically sort among the gore,

Seeking to grow sanity in minds I know are destroyed.

Teach a young man loyalty, honor, duty,

You have a patriot.

Teach him to kill

You have a killer.

One doesn’t need fixing...the other you can’t fix.

Like an accountant trying to balance books

And finally deciding to erase the ledger.

They play the songs of therapy till the tune wears out.

1200 milligrams of thorazine

Eight pills a day I am back in rhyme with all of mankind.