devilpup2B
09-12-02, 05:53 PM
Got.this.from.the.Sgt.Grit's.newsletter...(Sorry.t he.space.bar.doesn't.work.on.this.computer...so.I. copied.and.pasted)
God.bless,
~Morgan
----------
Not An Old Timer
By Michael E. Stephenson
July 4th 2001
Young in age,
Man so kind,
Lived too many years,
In too short of a time,
Man so fine,
What a waste,
Bitter thoughts,
Come with bullets he did taste.
Not an old timer,
Young in years,
Ways so bold,
So many tears,
Sights he’s seen,
Have made him old,
Thoughts he’s dreamed,
Have left him drained.
A true man,
Who wanted friends,
Outlived peers,
And outlived kin,
If he can find time,
To search around,
He will find,
The sacred ground.
Ironically,
The machine that sent,
His friends to die,
Never saw the fire,
A pointless cause,
That was inspired by lies,
Wearing camouflage,
Of their own desire.
Now the young man,
Because of war,
Has an aching heart,
And his feet are sore,
His body torn,
His mind is gone,
It’s hard to believe
He did nothing wrong.
The little purple medal,
The ribbon so thin,
Hardly repays for,
Metal under his skin,
Scars short and thin,
Some deep and long,
Don’t even represent
This young lad’s song.
It’s finally time for me,
To say these things,
Don’t ever forget the joy,
That you bring,
Inspiration,
You have been to me,
A cool caring friend,
As you have led the way.
Young in age,
Man so kind,
Lived too many years,
In too short of a time,
Man so fine
So glad he is mine.
My father I love,
He’s had one hell of a time.
God.bless,
~Morgan
----------
Not An Old Timer
By Michael E. Stephenson
July 4th 2001
Young in age,
Man so kind,
Lived too many years,
In too short of a time,
Man so fine,
What a waste,
Bitter thoughts,
Come with bullets he did taste.
Not an old timer,
Young in years,
Ways so bold,
So many tears,
Sights he’s seen,
Have made him old,
Thoughts he’s dreamed,
Have left him drained.
A true man,
Who wanted friends,
Outlived peers,
And outlived kin,
If he can find time,
To search around,
He will find,
The sacred ground.
Ironically,
The machine that sent,
His friends to die,
Never saw the fire,
A pointless cause,
That was inspired by lies,
Wearing camouflage,
Of their own desire.
Now the young man,
Because of war,
Has an aching heart,
And his feet are sore,
His body torn,
His mind is gone,
It’s hard to believe
He did nothing wrong.
The little purple medal,
The ribbon so thin,
Hardly repays for,
Metal under his skin,
Scars short and thin,
Some deep and long,
Don’t even represent
This young lad’s song.
It’s finally time for me,
To say these things,
Don’t ever forget the joy,
That you bring,
Inspiration,
You have been to me,
A cool caring friend,
As you have led the way.
Young in age,
Man so kind,
Lived too many years,
In too short of a time,
Man so fine
So glad he is mine.
My father I love,
He’s had one hell of a time.