South of Saigon

by | May 20, 2012 | Poetry | 0 comments

Amidst the fields, amidst the pain
Shattered metal fell like rain
To see the sky – the smoke had cleared
And there revealed the fate I feared

Three of us left on the field
As war extends its heartless yield
Another name for but the roles
A record of this days toll

Returned as but a box and flag
A step up from a body bag
To shield you from the scars of war
To not let the next batch know what’s in store

A raw deal no matter how you look
More names than would fit in just a book
You’d need much more to count them all
And so you can see us on the wall


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