~~~~His body is Weak~~~~
By An Angel
His body is weak, his hair is now thin,
He once did a job all the crowds called a sin.
Volunteering he stood filled with pride and with honor,
We sent him to war, not once did he falter.
Courage and heartache earned him the medal they pinned to his chest,
As this brave young warrior was put to the test.
I ordered men to be killed as my own soldiers died,
A mission accomplished, he said with a sigh.
A welcome home not once would he ever receive,
His future we held in our hands you and me.
How could we hate this man for what he had done,
We told him to do it, we gave him the gun.
His face has been weathered by years of regret,
His eyes filled with images he'd rather forget.
With thoughts in his heart for those that gave all,
He took a long trip to a place called The Wall.
With bowed head and heavy heart he stood and he cried,
His sorrow and pain I saw, my heart hypnotized.
He weeps for the names of the men he once knew,
And the part of his life that is lost for him too.
For once this fine man should not cry alone,
I reach out my hand and I welcome him home.
I've come here today to show my respect,
To the brave men and women, our Viet Nam War Vets.
To the ones that are lonely, homeless or hungry,
It's you that we honor you fought for your country.
You came back to a world that was changing so fast,
Struggling to move on and forgetting the past.
Your sacrifice will not be lost to us once again,
We know what you did and it wasn't was sin.
It was us that were wrong and showed you dishonor,
You were once our young brothers, our husbands and fathers.
Those medals you earned fighting far from your home,
Was our way of thanks for the bravery you'd shown.
Wear them with pride like your heart on your chest,
To let us all know so we'll never forget
I wrote this poem for all the veterans although some of the thoughts are from friends that I have that served during that time. I have always had a special place in my heart for these vets. So going to the Viet Nam Memorial was very poignant moment for me. I told a friend of mine about the experience and I will relay some of it here as well. As you walk past the vendor's selling patches and pins you come onto the book with all the names and locations in it that you can look in. It's a massive book....then you look down the expanse of the sleek black granite and you see the names begin in chronological order.You see people walking around you but nobody is really talking...there are some parents explaining to their young children why it is important that they be here....You see the Veterans with wives and some visiting alone....I don't have family that is listed here so the names aren't a part of my past in that sense but they are my history as they are all of our history. I slowly walk along the pathway pausing to look at the items that have been left. Small flags, flower petals are visible in some areas, poems, hats & pins and everything else. I pause and look at the names...seeing them and imagining their faces.
Random names pop out in my mind and soon I begin to realize that I am not just walking alongside the wall but i've reached out my hand and as I move it runs along the names...feeling the outlines of them as I walk slowly and each time my fingertip dips into a groove I know that it's a personal sacrifice that someone made, that a family made and that our country made. I look around and notice i'm not the only one. Without thought people reach out, touching and gathering the emotions from their hands. I'm not sure if they have realized they are doing it as I had not at the beginning. Their fingers slide along the granite as they walk. I stand in front of the last name...they are in order of death and think to myself if it had ended an hour sooner, a day sooner or even 5 minutes sooner what names wouldn't be here?
For the ones that made it back who I know and have spent time with I am honored to know them rather than just know them as a name etched in stone.
