I watched them fall
and then they died.
Bagged them up
fought hard not to cry.
Supply ships rolled in
carried them away.
I packed my aid-kit
prepared for another day.
Some only lasted
for just a little while.
Their dead eyes blank
no clue they ever smiled.
They'd come in a rush
died in a flash.
I was one of the few
who made it to the last.
I counted the days
till it was time to go.
They took forever
passed so slow.
The last thirty-three years
have passed so quickly.
I woke up one morning
discovered I was fifty.
The memories of Nam
continue to come.
Leaving me no place to go.
No where to run.
I want to just scream, rant, and yell.
Need some relief...from this unending hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem