The day my brother left home
He looked me in the eye.
I tried to be brave and smile,
But I started to cry.
He took off his insignia,
And pressed it into my hand.
Then boarded his plane,
For some faraway land.
I read all his letters,
When they infrequently came.
Although it was never spoken,
I could feel this deep pain.
When the war finally ended,
And he walked in the door,
He wasn't the brother
I had known before.
I never asked what he did,
And he seldom ever said,
But once during a storm
I found him hiding under
a bed.
For God and for country,
Some hero once said,
You can glorify war,
If you're not one of the dead.
To this day I get angry,
When someone brags about ‘Nam.
They never felt burning schrapnel
Or heard death in a bomb.
As the years passed by,
The pain left his head.
But the demon called war
Ate his body instead.
My brother's now gone,
But I can still hear him sing,
War, huh, good God y'all,
What is it good for?
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING
SAY IT AGAIN!
This poem is dedicated to George “Wayne” Baltimore. He risked his life for America and died for corporate greed. One of the many poisoned by Agent Orange. I don't need a day in May to remember because I never will forget. There is no memorial for him except in my heart and in heaven.
This is reprinted from the Wentzville, Mo., Local 2250 Newsline.
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