As we take a moment to remember the fallen this Memorial Day weekend, a poem I wrote as my friends were returning or were not returning from Vietnam.
No parade for eyes now filled with silent suffering,
Eyes that occupy the space where a child once lived.
No parade for innocence lost never to live again,
Innocence chewed up in savage hunger, sucking childhood’s dry.
No parade for patriot warriors jeopardizing life in quarrel to it’s opposition –
Now left to quarrel with life itself – demanding meaning.
No parade for the dreams of boys ripened with anguish and pain,
Dreams that became nightmares in yet another world of mystery.
No parade for the pride that fought to live amidst the horror,
And returned to fight sullenness and scorn for approval and acceptance.
No parade for those that endured because they were – and were not afraid.
Only to be spat out on the coldness of the land they called home.
No parade for the struggles that ended in the bowels of a smoke filled jungle,
And struggles that continue in the bowels of indifference and anesthesia.
© DiAnne Ebejer