this is a memoriam and a sad sad tribute to those lads who lost their way in Viet Nam

"The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosives and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own; for the children, and the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is that these things cannot be confined to The Twilight Zone."

Rod Serling, closing narration "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street"

i knew a man

that hid behind a uniform

tropical fare

shiny bullets were his snare

thru his sight targets that lingered

created in him itchy fingers

but he never killed a child i'm told

that hateful lie the public sold

that made him seem a wanton beast

in the eyes of his war's defeat

for the first time a Marine

became unwelcome on the stateside scene

no flags were raise when he came home

no "helluva guy" and pats on the rump

those who fled to Canada were welcomed tho

congratulated for their wisdom and guile

as they paraded down the college aisles

rewarded for their peaceful smile

the warrior children were left to roam

thru forested towns with darkened streets

to continue with their thoughts so bleak

to stick heroin needles in their arms

snort cocaine with sweaty palms

hollow eyes that jitter

fidgety fingers that litter

cigarette butts in dirty gutters

pushing back the tears of mothers

shadow like figures lost in a warlike dream

no longer find their place in the world

at the ripe old age of just nineteen

new poem up in the Poetry section inspire this one from me

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