May I pray Lord for the troubles that bear down on my mind,

I’m so broken over the treatment Vietnam Vets seem to find,

Still I remember ribbons torn from my chest by those that hate,

We fought to protect their rights yet there is no way to correlate,

Teddy bears and broken hearts seem to be arm in arm coming home,

So many brought a plush toy as a reminder of the life they had known,

I look at the stars and reflect upon the nights of combat so far away,

Shock therapy and my mind have hidden away memories of that day,

As I left the hospital grounds I had my precious discharge hid away,

Honorable discharges don’t come easy unless you did as they’d say,

Proudly we left the grounds to hecklers and protester’s evil glare,

My paltry seven ribbons seemed bare to the ribbons Marines wear,

Yet they were mine and proudly worn upon my chest for all to see,

Since both of my hands were occupied, a protester tore them from me,

“Stand down,” the order came from the Shore Patrol reading my eyes,

Although weakened from injuries still I can kill as my appearance lies,

Another’s hands upon me with rage brings flashbacks of months past,

Psychiatrists and drugs have diminished the need that revenge be cast,

Until this moment of test have I had to control an urge trained into me,

React immediately to protect myself and kill or weaken the enemy,

As I try to calm my damaged being and control my mental rage to smite,

I think of a long kiss goodbye as I left her behind one beautiful night,

As I try to bend to pick up my ribbons an Army amputee offers a hand,

The feeling of self pity suddenly dies as I realize he isn’t able to stand,

Time has been unkind I must say but without loving her I’d have died,

He handed me my ribbons with a wink but for some reason I just cried,

I stood and sobbed the tears the shrinks had tried to pry from my mind,

And I reached out blindly seeking the first kind soul’s hand I could find,

I’m so weak from my ordeal it took three months so I could walk,

During that time the psychiatric doctors tried hard to get me to talk,

I said what needed to be said to be enough for them to be wrong,

Telling me if she loved me she would have written and we don’t belong,

My heart clung to my love for her and golden silence locked her inside,

Yet I clung to loving her and tried not to listen but I admit I often cried,

And here I stand broken by a protester pulling ribbons from my chest,

Four months ago this wouldn’t have happened when I was at my best,

That moment seemed to last an eternity but it most likely was short,

Those men, those proud men stood tall and offered me their support,

I knew some of the dischargees as we were called that happy day,

But there were those born warriors that would’ve preferred to stay,

Two of our group knew my plight and of the brutality I had endured,

I must say none of us honorably discharged men left there cured,

They comforted me and for some reason protected this weakened man,

We soldiers, sailors, and warriors band together in support when we can,

We are your Vietnam Vets and we shall endure this treatment to the end,

It has been fifty years of mistreatment preventing us the chance to mend,

As I boarded the bus protester’s rage brought spit along with stone,

Except for those that love we men, in America Vietnam Vets are alone,

I made a vow to myself that day to lock away my experiences inside,

It was difficult to keep it hid away deep inside, it cannot be denied,

I married that girl because the doctors were wrong and I was right,

But sometimes the war reared its head as nightmares in the night,

But six years ago the silence came to an end as PTSD took command,

I recalled everything I witnessed as well as each that died of my hand,

Once more I clung to loving her and it was she that carried me through,

Crying, I asked forgiveness for sins of war, sweetly she said, “I love you.”

The end.  Thank you Patti