I AM THE SON OF A VIETNAM VET!

Poem by: jmurch

Summary

There is some bad words in this one. I apologize in advance. If you are a youngster please do not read. I rated it R for language. I wanted to express anger for how veterans can be treated and the lasting results of war. I grew up in a damaged household until my parents divorced. After that, we still remained damaged. My father was a war veteran and a hero. He was also a shell of who he was. This poem is for him and others like him. My life was ruined for a war we should never have fought. My father was ruined. I never had the opportunity to know him before Vietnam. I only knew him after the death and carnage war brings. Do I hate him? No! I hate the bastards who sent him there. This was a war we did not belong fighting! My grandmother once told me my dad had been a wonderful young man... I cannot verify this. I wish I could...I wish I could.

Content

Submitted: March 25, 2012

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Content

Submitted: March 25, 2012

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Click! Clack! Click!

Boots thunder the soil

Explosions vibrate the terrain

“Your left…Your left…Your left right left!” shouts the sergeant

Rat a tat tat! The M16’s sing

Don’t fear the Reaper!

“You will all be heroes!” smiles the politician . . .

(We need you to kill for America)

WE NEED YOU ALL TO DIE!

“Smile and play pretty for the Camera!” laughs the jovial media man

Wear this hate target on your heads

We can spit at you better from over here…over here

“Wear the Red, White, and Blue with pride . . .” says the recruiter trained in sales

Watch lifelong friends die

Watch their mamas cry

No Man! No Man! FUCK THAT MAN!

Click! Clack! Click!

Boots thunder the soil

Explosions vibrate the terrain

“Your left…Your left…Your left right left!” shouts the sergeant

Rat a tat tat! The song still sings in their heads

THE REAPER TOOK ALL OF OUR FRIENDS!

“You will all be heroes!” smiles the politician . . .

Just forgotten ones in the end

Just Fucking shells of who you were!

“Smile and play pretty for the Camera!” laughs the jovial media man

Pretend you can be men again

Beat your wives…beat your kids…It helps take the bombs out of your head

“Wear the Red, White, and Blue with pride . . .” says the recruiter trained in sales

It will help hide your pain

It will help mask the blood . . . the death

You will never be forgotten

Just nobody heard you then

Nobody gave two shits

About a war that should not have happened

It only did

I hear the guns

I hear the bombs

I HEAR THE CHILDREN CRYING!

I see the death of a thousand deaths

I AM THE SON OF A VIETNAM VET!

I fight back tears

As they flow down my face

I fight back tears

Of pain I should never have felt

But . . .But . . .?

What did my dad feel?

WHAT DID MY DAD FEEL?

I don't know...

what I do know-

He never felt a hero’s welcome

He might not remember everything he did

He might not remember…

But HE REMEMBERS THE PAIN!

He remembers being forgotten

He remembers the . . .

Click! Clack! Click!

Boots thunder the soil

Explosions vibrate the terrain

It is time to remember them

The ones who survived did not lose their lives then

They lost who they were...who they were, yeah man!

They were men!

Can’t we fucking see?


© Copyright 2016 jmurch. All rights reserved.

I AM THE SON OF A VIETNAM VET! I AM THE SON OF A VIETNAM VET!

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

There is some bad words in this one. I apologize in advance. If you are a youngster please do not read. I rated it R for language. I wanted to express anger for how veterans can be treated and the lasting results of war. I grew up in a damaged household until my parents divorced. After that, we still remained damaged. My father was a war veteran and a hero. He was also a shell of who he was. This poem is for him and others like him. My life was ruined for a war we should never have fought. My father was ruined. I never had the opportunity to know him before Vietnam. I only knew him after the death and carnage war brings. Do I hate him? No! I hate the bastards who sent him there. This was a war we did not belong fighting! My grandmother once told me my dad had been a wonderful young man... I cannot verify this. I wish I could...I wish I could.
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