He walked all neighborhoods,
all he did was roam.
He seemed to be homeless,
but he did have a home.
I was just a child then,
and kids can be mean.
If I remember correctly,
I was under thirteen.
We used vulgar language,
as we teased poor old Ed.
Sometimes he chased us,
or keep walking instead.
Quite a few years later,
we talked about Nam.
He told me some stories,
then offered his palm.
I shook his hand quickly,
his grip was so strong.
I remembered my actions,
my heart felt so wrong.
A soldier not by choice,
but a soldier non the less.
I made him fell anger,
maybe even worthless.
He faught for us bravely,
in a far away place.
America welcomed him,
by spitting in his face.
Dear walking Eddie,
I'm sorry I wronged you.
I know you lived bravely,
I know you served true.
If you're not walking,
if you're no longer steppin',
I sure you are well,
I'm sure your walking in Heaven.
I'm sorry Battle.
wow....not sure what to write....i love it, its really deep!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your last line is crushing...it really brings the deep feeling of remorse home on many levels.