And I have stories to tell,
For I have spend my time in Hell
I now sit in my rocking chair,
It is now known that I have done my share.
See, it is now for you to judge me,
I know I was the best that I could be.
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As I write and remember what I had to do,
I sit and wonder if I really did it for you.
Sometimes I feel angry and mad,
Because I see this as we never got the respect that we should have had.
I was but a boy,
Playing with a new toy,
It may have seem like fun,
Until they gave me that gun.
For you I shut my life down,
Now when I look back you are not around.
That's the way it was when we came home from the Nam,
You were sitting there smoking your pot and judging what I am.
You set there and called me names,
You had made me feel like I should be ashamed.
Yet it was all for you,
That we fought in freedoms name.
I write for those that can write no more,
I Salute you Soldiers of the past.
I WRITE FOR
" THE MISFORTUNES"
AND I HAVE CHOSEN TO USE MY PIN AS MY SWORD.
IF IT IS MY CHOOSE,
THEY WILL NEVER FORGET YOU ANYMORE.
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