Twenty Years

It’s almost noon, only an hour to go,

The seconds slip by, time goes so slow.

I’ve been in this group for nearly four years,

In that time I’ve shed a few tears.

From the Navy, Marines, the Rangers 75^th,

Somehow surviving was a twisted gift.

We all have our ghosts we keep inside,

In a group like this feelings are hard to hide.

We went away, so young in age,

20 years later I’m filled with rage.

Days filled of horror as we watched friends die,

20 years later we have yet to cry.

In ‘Nam the air smelled of doom,

I now feel safe when I enter this room.

I left my girl, my friends at home,

20 years later I feel so alone.

20 years ago I carried my world in a ruck,

Since then my life has been a string of bad luck.

Our lives became hell, we could not hide,

The cause we now know came from deep inside.

20 years ago we returned on freedom birds,

I couldn’t say “Help me,” such simple words.

It’s almost noon, time passes slow,

20 years later, I’ve no where else to go.

Michael D. Monfrooe

1993