In Vietnam we didn't fight for the Flag,
or for Mom's Apple Pie,
or for the American Way Of Life....
we fought for each other –
for the guys next to us,
the ones still breathing,
and the ones who no longer drew breath...
we fought not for a cause,
—we fought because we were sent there to fight,
but it just took a lot of us a while to figure out
exactly what we were really doing there.
I'm still not sure.
Mentally hurting just a bit.
31 December 1966 was a bad week for me...
been going over a lot of that day in my mind.
You ever watch a flash flood come down
and stuff starts jamming up,
debris, branches, whole damn trees,
rocks and then boulders?
Then it all sorta spreads out around the jam point?
That's where my mind is right now.
It's all going all around me,
and I'm trying to not fall down into it any further.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.