Connie Moore Poet Rhyme

A Crime

A Crime

I Had the Sweetest Little Girl.
She Was My Maiden Fair.
I Taught Her to Believe in Life,
And What it Means to Care.

She Grew up to Be a Lady,
Went to School and Became a Nurse.
I Was the Proudest Parent Alive
You Would Have Thought She Was the First.

Then My World Kind of Tilted,
As She Stood There with Her News.
She Said She Had Joined the Service....
It Was Time to Pay Her Dues.

They Sent Her to Vietnam.
She Would Be Gone for Maybe a Year.
I Wrote Letters and Sent Pictures
And Tried to Hide My Fear.

They Knocked on My Door One Day...
Missing in Action They Said.
But How Could That Be??
I Cried...Please God , Don't Let Her Be Dead!

That Prayer Was Never Answered,
But She Finally Was Sent Home.
I Still Have Dreams and Nightmares
About Her Death and Her Dying Alone.

Dear God Please Forgive Me,
I Am So Bitter about That War.
Fifty Eight Thousand of Our Young People Died,
Not Really Knowing What They Were Fighting For.

My Daughter's Name Is on That Wall.
She Died Way Before Her Time .
I Know She Is Not Really Alone,
But to Me...her Death Remains a Crime.

Connie Moore
10/2013

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