I stared at the scars all over my body. I had no memory how I had goten them or why I was in a hospital gown or why I was having visions of laying on the cold wet assault of the interstate.
My memory was like scattered puzzle pieces slowing coming together.
My father walked into my room.
His eyes filled with tears.
He looked down at me and smiled.
He said welcome back.
I had been in acoma for three weeks.
My entire body was very sore.
I still had no recollection of what had happened.
He told me not to worry.
My mother came into the room next.
She hugged my father and cried.
My whole life had completely changed.
With lots of prayers
I had been given a second chance at life.
I had dreamed of being in the military and serve my country.
Now I spend most of my time writing.
Expressing my feelings through a pen full of ink.
I constantly have thoughts running through my mind.
All that is left is a stack of blank paper.
These days I have hours of free time.
Follow me on this journey.
Let's see where this takes me.
By
Dwayne Clark
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