Forty Years

Forty Years


My soldier boys, you break my heart
When you take to telling stories.
I often wish you wouldn't start
Your tales of all your warring.

Your eyes glisten with fire stars
And necks and ears turn red.
You scratch and tug at ancient scars,
And sweat beads upon your heads.

Your grinning faces laugh at first
Of desert sand and jungle dirt,
Life with no showers and undying thirst,
But from my heart, can't mask the hurt.

You'll take with you into your graves
Medals pinned upon your chests.
My handsome patriotic slaves
I'll lay you both to rest.

The two of you have stolen my soul,
My loyalty, and my love.
Volunteering for both your roles
Helped through from cover above.

Lurking in a city years ago,
And recently you returned.
Teaching kids what they don't know
And telling what you learned.

Daddy told you, "Stand down, son.
In decades, you'll see the light.
My jungle war was never won.
You will always want to fight."

He patched them up and held their hands.
Just children in their deaths.
You stalked one man throughout the sands,
So close you held your breath.

You see them, but they are not free.
The men I love thrived on danger.
The two of them would still die for me,
My Corpsman and My Ranger.