This poem is dedicated to all of the men and women who returned from Vietnam and Korea with horrible nightmares.  These heroes received little assistance with the mental issues that came about from losing their innocence in such brutal wars.  They came home to people who hated them for the simple fact that they chose to serve their country.  Our government ignored and at times even tried to cover up these issues.  We must never allow this kind of tragedy to take place again.  Our soldiers, our protectors deserve better.

God bless the heroes

Bedtime comes near and a tear starts to form
Brought on by a soul that is tattered and torn
For I know when I sleep, I’ll sweat and I’ll shake
And I will beg for mercy until I’m awake

I see clearly the trees, Bright green and wet
The mist will not allow me to enjoy this cigarette
This Lucky Strike cigarette helps protect me from Charlie
While I walk down this path that I know that he’s watching

A fatal gunshot to the left at a distance
It could be my buddies they must know that I’m missing
It wasn’t my fault, it was the middle of the night
On patrol in the jungle, amidst a firefight

Bullets were flying, so we all hit the ground
And when the firing was over, I got up and looked around
Not a soldier was out there, as far as I could see
It’s like they all ran away, and left Charlie and me

I reached for my Strikes, and I pulled out a blunt
That’s when I heard the sound of a grunt
And from out of the bushes, Charlie’s face I could see
But it seemed as though Charlie had not seen me

So I slowly eased down beside a big rock
I reached for my pistol and quietly cocked
All at once Charlie started laughing with zest
Standing there admiring the hole in my chest

That’s when I wake, my face soak and wet
Eyes filled with tears, sheets soaked with sweat
I look at my wife, and then turn away
And I pray to my maker, make the dreams go away