Treasure Island

Lawerence Mize, Sr.

(October 29,1949 / Baltimore, Maryland)


The war is long over
the one we never won
No cheers of joy
just broken men on the run.

Branded as outcasts
stereotyped as ticking bombs.
Only wanted to serve our country
return home to our moms.

So analyzed and debated
to find at whose feet lay the blame.
Yet there's no one to latch onto
to account for all the names.

Names etched in stone
on a shiney granite wall.
If only they could speak
they'd tell it all.

They'd speak of their pain and suffering
the lost chance for fame.
There would be no excuses
nothing to sound lame.

Now it's just us oldtimers
the ones who have had their fill.
Stuck with horrible memories
served up a bitter pill.

We did our duty
served our country well.
Left only with stories
too terrible to tell.

We searched for the enemy
never had to go far.
Caused so much damage
left so many scars.

We fought to win
while others at home played games.
They made their decisions
some hid behind their names.

The cowards at home
wore their silly peace signs.
Burned their draft cards
sang their little rhymes.

Songs of protest
filled the air.
Joints of Pot
appeared everywhere.

Marches and chants
nasty rumors of war.
Dirty little subversives
hiding in every door.

Some of the rats fled to Canada
others were deferred.
Now they seek glory
run for office...want to serve.

A shot in the head
should be a traitors just reward.
The cowards should have been branded
like cattle in a herd.

They gave us nothing
when they were young.
Now they want power
feel safe enough to run.

Their smiles so sincere
promises so great.
Just want your vote
know they'll skate.

It's over for us
the men and women of our kind.
We served our country with courage
in blood we did our time.

Submitted: Saturday, September 01, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

This poem is from Dead Men Calling, a collection of poems about my experiences in Vietnam.

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