Lost Soldier

I had to vote on a critical issue today.

Honestly, I’ve come to find that no matter what I decide  I’m still a lost soldier.

I’m on my own in a field.

I’m on my own, lost in a jungle.

Hearing the enemy advancing, I find out that I’m surrounded. 

My fate is now in God’s hands.

Property of my country, sitting in a cell with no help, I read off my government number only to realize that I’ve been left for dead.

If I fight, either way, I’m outnumbered.

I can only win with a supernatural force.

I’m a lost soldier, wondering if the people will remember me.

They don’t even know I’m still alive.

I’m just a number.

I’m just a lost soldier, aware, awoke, and alone in enemy territory.

I am on my own.

My flag is my white t-shirt with my black government issued number on it tied to a stick waiving for help.

Lord help me.