In the Jungle of Vietnam
In the shadows an enemy lurks, it’s where they hide.
While inside my foxholes, a Marine grunt, I abide.
A poncho line wrapped around my body that shivers;
Steeled nerves, impenetrable will, I refuse to quiver.
I wait soaking wet in my restrained prime.
Its death that haunts me while I suffer this time.
My mind is troubled, yet there I’ll remain
There’s no pretending, its death, not a game.
Trained to fight and not to run for the Vietnam War,
Where time has forgotten, and joy comes no more.
Waiting for the enemy, faces without names;
Their bodies mount-up now God’s to claim.
Marines died in the jungles of South Vietnam
While outside of country, the world moved on.
They dared not dream, for it might be forever.
O’ Home, Sweet Home, twas' their bold endeavor.
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