I was just nineteen


I was just nineteen


15,000 day ago, he was a soldier.
He learn the soldier’s minute, fight or die?
kill or run?


Young man thought he was saving his world,
he came home, was called a baby-killer at the airport, returning home.


He tried to hide his ugly face, he show fake face to his world,
rarely showing real face. No-one want to listen to a crazed man.


The old man told me and I am alone.
I don’t like no-one and I receive 100% disability from the Army.


He told me, I lost my youth to Vietnam, lost dear wife to bad dreams and anger outburst.
I lost my buddies in the Asia dirt.


I tried to talk to him and he looked at me and he whispered to me. Too late to talk about it, too late to thank me for my service. I became what I am. No-one want to befriend a bastard, left behind and forgotten.


I left him be. I understand his story. My father waited forty years to receive a ribbon for the Korea war. He did appreciate. Today the Vietnam vets are showing their colors, maybe the “Thank you” is too late to have any meaning.


Dancing Coyote