There was explosions in the air
booms that rocked you to the core
morter rounds and machine gun's
shouting, seeking, whom to destroy
I remember that fourth of July
I was in Viet Nam, and someone
wearing black was gunning for me
I can't remember if I thought
about home or not, but not having
anyone who cared about me,
I don't think I did.
Looking back now, I don't think that
what I did was really anything having
to do with keeping anyone free, Mostly
I just feel kinda left out, missing a year
But I am glad I went, when I was called
and im glad that I live in the US of A
and im glad to stand up, and salute the flag
cause i know i did what i could, after all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem