A proud bloody vet I met that day.
A brightly lit morn in the month of May.
Both of us were strong young Marines.
That day I still recall in my dreams.
Ribbons pinned proudly on his chest.
We were both part of America's Best.
Ribbons said he fought the Viet Cong.
I wondered and asked him how long.
He told me he had two tours over there.
Showed it with his distant cold stare.
I told him I hadn't been sent there.
Was honestly told that he didn't care.
I asked him about the scar above his eye.
That's when I noticed he wanted to cry.
Asked him what was hurting him so.
He told me the saddest story I know.
We sat and waited for our return flight.
That's when I learned of inner might.
He told me of that battle scar.
Got it on leave at home in a bar.
Was visiting friends when this dude come in.
Long stringy hair and a bearded chin.
The dude said things that I won't restate.
Cruel vicious words spoken with hate.
When he started to head for the door.
The hairy big man still wanted more.
Broken bottle flashed near his eye.
Now I know why he wanted to cry.
The Young marine had done what was right.
He tried to walk away from the upcoming fight.
He served his country honorably.
By avoiding and walking away humbly.
The big hairy man continued the fight.
the Marine resisted with all his might.
Broken bottle flashed to his eye again
That's when he grabbed the dude's hairy chin.
Took the bearded dude to the men's room.
Big hairy dude gonna meet his doom.
Put his head down in the cold water.
Washed his hair with toilet water.
He then walked away and wiped his eye.
That is when I know I needed to cry.
A man served this land and wasn't yellow.
I sure don't feel sorry for the hairy fellow.
That war did tear our country apart.
This feeling I know deep in my heart.
Reread this poem and to you it will seem.
Easier to understand this recurring dream.
