On a beautiful and sunny day,
a small boy reaches toward the Wall,
scanning the endless list of names,
yet, too young to comprehend it all.
His dad stares into the black granite...
His thoughts turn to friends he misses.
Then, the small boy on his shoulders
leans over to plant two small kisses.
The Viet Nam vet sitting beneath a tree
with that familiar "thousand yard stare,"
Remembers his friends who fought and died
for a country that didn't seem to care.
One star-lit night, a mother visits...
Tears in her eyes...a rose in her hand.
She gently traces the name of her son,
killed at eighteen, in that place, Viet Nam.
If the war-makers saw these images...
If they'd just take a little time...
Maybe they'd think twice before sending off
young boys to die before their prime.