It was a sad day today
The girl at 87
The guy at 95 had split
It was all over social media
Old Mrs Malathorpe said it was a shame
Billy, who had just left the army after a hundred and fifty years, couldn’t give a toss
Chelsea, who had mentioned to the girl at 87
Her boyfriend and Mary, who worked at the dairy, were maybe a bit more than contrary
Had she checked, she would have realised the dairy was a Turkish barbers' run by asylum seekers incorporated
Billy couldn’t understand why the bastards he used to kill were living next door to him now
Old Mrs Malathorpe said the girl at 87 was 18 months pregnant
Billy couldn’t understand civilians, hated not having a structure
Why couldn’t he die in the army
Chelsea would make a move on the guy at 95
The girl at 87 left the area
Billy saw the enemy walking towards him, quickly plunging the knife through his eye into his brain.
This would get him into prison, where he would get structure
The team monitoring the suicide bomber ran towards him, congratulating him on his bravery. Nothing was mentioned about the knife.
Billy was now a reluctant hero who hated the media even more than civilians now.
Chelsea who had now dumped the guy at 95, could see something in Billy
She knew he needed structure.
It was a simple conversation. Be at my house at 8, repeat it to me.
I’ll be at your house at 8. Billy liked being ordered about.
He turned up at 8 sharp
Go into the bedroom, get undressed and wait for me.
She entered naked, holding a burning candle and got on top of him
The burning wax dripped onto his body as the gentle rocking reached its climax
Chelsea took total control of Billy's life. Every night at 8, he would return for more
It was in the second week that she decided this world wasn’t for them.
They would end it tonight.
The walk up to the bridge was slow and deliberate
They both got on the ledge, briefly kissing before jumping
The car pulled up, and she got in
Mrs Malathorpe asked if he’d gone to a new place
Yes, mum, a new place.
The media were all over the story
Chelsea played up to the camera, telling of Billy's pain, his PTSD
The funeral was televised live
She looked good in black, like that was her colour
The public crowdfunding helped her heartbreak
Only the guy at 95 knew the real Chelsea, but he was history.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 28th, 2026 06:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments3
Just what I always thought age makes no difference to feelings and even actions if physically possible. Well written Paul. Fun it seems ridiculous because of the age but it all fits human nature at any age.
It all happens on the street it seems.
Where else?
Well written, Paul, a powerful poem. Your poem revolves around the lives of Billy, a war veteran struggling with PTSD, and Chelsea, a young woman entangled in a relationship that ultimately leads to tragedy. Their interactions reflect the complexities of human relationships against the backdrop of societal expectations, media sensationalism, and the challenges of reintegration after trauma.
Yes, life is the tragedy here in more ways than one.
Paul, I’ve always found stories about displaced identity powerful… especially veterans struggling outside rigid systems. The way media, manipulation, and private control weave together here feels intentionally uncomfortable. It forces the reader to sit in that discomfort. Powerful poetry, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
The sad thing is, you can't untrain soldiers and gently put them back into society.
That is very true...and society doesn't really do well at helping soldiers integrate back in. All very true and, yes, extremely sad.
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