Lynn C. Price
WINGS OF HONOR
He gave to his Country he loved, oh so well,
Ten years of his life was spent in that hell.
Jungles and bugs, the rains of monsoons,
Two years as a prisoner, a cage for a room.
He held on to a promise that freedom was right,
Something to die for, on this he held tight.
Came home to a strange land that spat in his face,
Forgiving them still, his soul still held grace.
He turned to a bottle, then pills eased the hurt,
Woke in a fog, face down in the dirt.
Doctors have told him he has PTSD,
The demons and devils, they never will see.
And so on this day, with eagles he’ll soar,
His battle is over, he’s no longer at war.
There on a tombstone, one single line reads,
“Wings of Honor God gave him; no longer he grieves”
©Copyright December 1984 by Lynn C. Price
Author’s Note: Wings of Honor… what God gives the Angels to bring our Soldiers home. Dedicated to my brother, my friend, Mike: Rest well