Scream Poem by Lawerence Mize, Sr.

AT night I scream...
a lonely high-pitched wail
that curdles the blood
straight out of hell.

I see men die
mourn the loss.
Jesus left me
he's faceless on my cross.

I look around
watch the fog roll in.
Feel the rain
so cold on my skin.

A huey appears
tiny speck in the sky.
I sit alone
wondering why.

The taste of death
so fresh on my lips.
No one to save me
from this nightmarish trip.

Gooks in the grass
and on the hills.
Gooks in the treetops
waiting to kill.

I hear the thump, thump, of rotors
beating the air.
Pop my smoke
without a care.

I roll them and pack them
into green body bags.
Lifeless and heavy
they always sag.

I wait for the bird
to come rushing down.
To take my load
get them off the ground.

Their numbers don't matter
dead is dead.
It's always their faces
stuck in my head.

I lay asleep
caught in this wretched dream.
No one to hear me
as I scream and scream.

Nam was a place
so real and strange.
Stripped you naked
filled you with shame.