What if we could see the wounds
Each of us bears inside?
What if we could see the face
Behind the mask of pride?
Would we see an army broken
Limping homeward from defeat?
Would we see the sepia picture
With crutches and splints replete?
I watch the lurching army move
Down winters long road home
Broken Angels all, are we
And each of us, alone.
When we see a body broken
In our hearts we might then pray
We could take a little, if we could
Of their pain away
Yet we cannot see the wounds all bear;
Of love betrayed
Of childhood wrongs
Of trust or faith that strayed
I watch the lurching army move
Down winters long road home
Broken Angels all, are we
And each of us, alone.
