THE GIFT

In sixty-eight and sixty-nine
We were young, and in our prime

We did many things, like going Insane
To many things that were inhumane
Those memories, in the windowpane.

Who would think a beautiful tree
Would some day devour me
We sprayed to kill it, so we could see
Now I can see that it's killing me

The Gift they gave, they gave for free
Betrayed our trust and sanity

To see the children, all twisted in pain
The deformed bodies, and shattered brain
Those memories, in the windowpane.

©Copyright October 7, 2002 by Ron Leonard

Author''s Note: For My Grand Babies who suffer Spina Bifida because of Agent Orange