The smell of death stole my morality and my innocence.
About the time I turned twenty; almost overnight
I’d forgotten how to play peaceful like….
the weapons were real.
Having been trained to kill or be killed
in fewer than three months
by our nation’s best, I had known
from the outset of the war;
I didn’t want to wind up like grandpa’s
Uncle Bob. The toothless
part with the missing teeth I could
handle but paralyzed
from the neck down and my gun shooting blanks;
there was no way
if I could help it,
that was ever going to be me.
But as sure as I’m sitting here today…..
It was always a possibility.....
and a sacrifice I was willing to make
along with my band of brothers
for a free America....

2008 © TS

Ted Sheridan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-didn-t-send-home-dead-i-sent-home-dead-heroes/