GROWING OLD
A young boy plinking tin cans
with a twenty two rifle in his hands.
Having fun
trying to beat his last score.
A young man with an M-16 in his hands
wishing he didn't have to think of the score.
Men are dying all around
he hates the sound.
Many lives are bound.
A young old man has come home
wondering what went wrong.
They didn't play his country's song
when they set foot on home soil.
Was his tour just for turmoil?
No welcome home
no pat on the back.
Compassion this country did lack.
So on with life he did plod on
but those memories are never gone.
They will haunt him till his life is still
in a void we all will fill.