1968

My t-shirt had holes, and my jeans had some patches. 
My feet were bare, and my elbows both had scratches. 
The grownups were all indoors and the kids were out of sight.  
'Twas a perfect childhood, 'neith a sun that shined so bright.
As we rode our bikes to the beach in nineteen sixty eight,  
we felt the sea breeze on our faces.  Everything was great.   
Blissfully unaware of the nightmare in the jungle land,
I collected seashells in the Southern California sand. 
My parents called me inside, with news, one cloudy day,
about the blast that blew my happy childhood away.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Wolf Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 8:53 PM
Vietnam -- the first of the disastrous media-produced wars, if you ask me. We should have whipped those vile Viet Cong in a year or so. But NOOO. Can't hurt our fellow humans and all that do-gooder commentary. Never forget the bloodbath that ensued when we withdrew. Bah! Humbug!
Crandall Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 9:37 PM
Thanks very much for your comments :-))
Etgen-Baker Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 5:36 PM
I appreciate the way you personalized the tragedy of the Vietnam War. I still recall all the television coverage....the footage shaped an entire generation. Well done.
Crandall Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 9:36 PM
Thanks, Sara!
Rodrigues Avatar
November 11, 2025 at 2:53 PM
A good write. You bring us back to a lovely childhood.p the the heart break and tragedy of Vietnam.
Rodrigues Avatar
November 13, 2025 at 6:51 PM
Our minds go where they will. We think we control the narrative…lol.
Crandall Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 5:12 PM
Thanks, Kim. It's weird, when I started this poem, it was just going to be about the pleasure of growing up in the 60s, unsupervised, and somehow, it took a dark turn.
Fowler Avatar
November 11, 2025 at 12:47 PM
It changed much, Dave, and devastated some idealistic youth, taking dreams and lives. A sad time.
Crandall Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 5:13 PM
Indeed, I'm lucky to say, I only experienced to good part of this poem, and not the last couplet.
Crandall Avatar
November 12, 2025 at 5:11 PM
Indeed, I'm lucky to say, I only experienced to good part of this poem, and not the last couplet.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace