Dedicated to Rebecca McKeehen, who gave me the idea for this poem, that complements yesterday's poem titled "Incomplete".

Complete
By John Herlihy

Nobody told the soldier he was less than complete;
Indeed, it was too embarrassing and fully replete.
The man came back from war’s horror fully scared;
His face beyond recognition, totally marred.
He was prepared in action either to live or die;
Nothing had truly prepared him for a life in which to hide.
No one would have accused him of being incomplete;
No one would dare to suggest he was but brave and sweet.
He tried to carry on as though nothing had happened;
His own image of himself is what needed to be reckoned.
Yet the unhappy fact remains, the scars told a simple tale,
That dragged him unceremoniously thru sorrow’s vale.
But a strange thing happened when he looked into the mirror;
His misery drained away and his face lost that look of terror.
The sad eyes, the sculptured nose, the noble brow still whole
Through the features of his face shone the essence of his soul.