06/08/2026
In 67, welcome home, was never heard.
My uniform, badge of honor was just a sword.
Life was topsy-turvy and no one cared or knew the fight, fear, sorrow, and suffering we’ve all been through
We looked for a job only to be scorned as devils with horns.
Some of us brought into that guilt and shame while the stronger never played that game.
We’ve gone down that road our country prescribed only to be sidetracked by our nations divide.
We trusted no one and fought for ourselves, sometimes with meaningless jobs to put food on our shelves.
Some married, some didn’t, it didn’t really matter, the name-calling followed us, we were as mad as the Hatter.
It took years of fighting with demons to gain insight that most all were wounded, no matter which fight.
Whether here or there the nightmares would follow and carve out our essence until most were hollow.
We fought for our country, a war of their choosing, and took the brunt of their politics until they chose losing.
Both sides of a sword ran through our hearts, were here at home, in the bunker or on the ramparts.
Today, I recall the friends I have lost, most suffering from wounds, not in combat, but at political cost.
Today, I can hold my head high and look toward the sun, knowing damn well we won the battles at full run.
After 10 years of war, some may echo this poem.
And to all of you I say “Welcome Home”
Stand down soldier your job well done
Hell is over and it’s Heaven to come.
PEC 5/2012