Ask for help,
They say
With quiet judgmental rebuke
So I ask
And then I plead
And deafness
Greets his friend
Stagnation.

Today
Means tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
Next week.
I have yet to see
What
"Within the year"
Means,
And it's been Two.

Each letter,
A careful trapeze,
Am I too sick?
Not sick enough?
The war waged on 
In my body.
They promised me
Soldiers
"Within the year."

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