 THAT LONELY HOUR  by Bobby Easton "99"  It's twenty to the hour and time to make the change, With civies gone and dressed in black, my hands and feet in chains. I sit alone and focus to bring my thoughts in line, And then out side the tent I hear a voice say "Bob, it's time". The chains do cry their rattling song with a guard on either side, I place a ribboned pin in flag and salute with all my pride. We slowly walk, the guards and I, toward a bamboo tiger's cage, As "Forgotten Man" floats on the breeze, my world begins to haze. I stand before this bamboo cage as it's lifted toward the sky, And a brother's helped to stand erect, his cheeks wet with our pride. We salute and hug, I see his tears, for brother's not come home, And then I'm placed on the earthen floor, blindfolded and alone. Sometimes it's hot with noon day sun, sometimes it's cold with rain, Sometimes I cramp as spasms rack my lower back with pain. Some days I hear the music that rides upon the wind, Some days I drift upon those dreams that chill me deep within. I think of men who've lived this life existing in a spell, Cast by those who sent them there, abandoned in a hell. I hear a sound, I snap awake, the honor guard returns, I hear the sound of singing chains, my time has thus been burned. I know that now I shall be free, to walk the land I adore, But what of those left far behind, the ones we're fighting for. I'm welcomed home, my time is done, but what of those in power, Let's put THEM in that tiger cage and feel That Lonely Hour. © Bobby Easton. Reproduction of "That Lonely Hour" without permission is strictly prohibited. If you wish to use this on your POW/MIA site, you MUST receive written permission from Bobby Easton. Bobby Easton *EMAIL* 
 Get your own Free Home Page |
