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" He walked m-16 slung at his side, through rice patties and forests day and night night and day he walked. He prayed he prayed before his hike and before he rested for the night, he prayed for the end to a war that in a perfect world would have never began. Then the day came the 8th of november his soldiers got carried away. Not by huey's or m-113's but by the angles a heavenly army. He came home got spit upon cursed and despised why? what for? For a country to be able to rest in peace forever more" just a new poem im working on
