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I Harbor Regrets For Our Vietnam Vets
I Harbor Regrets For Our Vietnam Vets
The year was nineteen sixty-five, and I was just a kid.
Still, I could read and watch TV and both I often did.
I heard the newscasts, saw the films of a tropical place afar,
Our own street marchers with their signs that said, "Make love not war!"
I understood that many thought we should not be involved.
Demonstrations divided us and nothing there was solved.
I heard the P.O.W. wives plead for intervention.
I watched as Honor Guards at graves saluted at attention.
The whole affair was frightening, because my schoolmates, friends
Would soon be old enough to fight. At eighteen they were men.
I watched as some went off to school, while others fought a war,
That had nothing to do with our daily lives. What were they fighting for?
Everyone in every town it seemed had his own view,
But when a man was drafted, there was nothing he could do.
So many men were called and fought for liberty and home,
But few there were who understood. The reason was unknown.
These valiant soldiers daily gave their all for freedom's call.
Yet they were ridiculed and mocked--no hero's welcome all.
Abused, misused, humiliated by their own when they returned.
Is it any wonder that society some veterans have since spurned?
They truly gave their best when called to serve this land so great,
Yet when they homeward broken came, they met with only hate.
Some laughed and called them stupid for their fighting far away,
Some made fun and put them down for their efforts in the fray.
For all the years that have progressed since seventeen seventy-six,
These soldiers true upheld the laws our forefathers tried to fix.
When their country called they answered with their lives and honor bright,
Thinking to spark a flame in the dark--our Freedom's Holy Light.
I stand today in loud applause to say "I'm proud of you."
All Viet veterans, lift up your heads! To your country you were true.
It's not your fault that the cause was lost or the leader made a mistake.
You're the ones with the vivid nightmares and dreams you cannot shake.
No greater sacrifice I see in the pages of our nation's book,
Than the one you made when you shouldered duty, a chance at death you took.
God bless you one and all I pray as I write this little rhyme,
May your hearts be healed by the Master's touch and the passing now of time.
IN LOVING MEMORY OF TIM COLE JR. (SKIPPY) AND DONALD LOWERY OF NEWNAN, GEORGIA...
Wow, a wonderfully written poem, with a remarkable message as well. I am brought to tears every time I think of how our veterans were treated after all of the pain and suffering they went through and for those that are still with us, continue to go through in the form of nightmares, vividly frightening memories, and painful scars on their bodies and souls. It is heartening though to see that there are those in this land who attempt to understand their pain, and sympathise with their humble attempts at heroism. Thank you, and God bless.