Eighteen years of age but in the eye's of his
mama still a little boy
It seems only yesterday he could be seen
playing with his toys
January thirty first nineteen sixty five he raised
his hand high
The world he was accustomed to he would soon
say goodbye
February nineteen sixty five at Fort Polk La.
he would arrive
From his home in Arkansas it was about a ten
hour drive
A few months later in a far and
distant land
Tired and weary he removed his helmet and
looked at a star
The silence was broken by small arms fire
in the night
Grabbing his M16 mama's little boy
began to fight
Looking out the window his mother's heart
was filled with fear
Two men in uniform slowly
drawing near
A fire fight had broken out under the
stars so bright
She had lost her son her joy her little
boy that dreadful night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad and gripping write, a lesson for all. Very touching story of a mother and son, and the result of violence in one's life.