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Bags

I had a good friend and each day I and he
would walk to the beach at the edge of the sea,
We’d watch the great ships as they moved to and fro
and wondered about all the places they’d go.

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We both planned that someday we’d cross that great sea
and dreamed of the magical places we’d be.
With names so darn foreign we can’t even say
We’d go just to visit, we never would stay.

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Then we got older and I went on to school
to prove to the world that, Hey I am no fool
And he had things he wanted so he went to work
Making good dough as a retail clerk.

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And we both heard rumblings of their starting a war,
and that our guys were dying on some foreign shore.
But a student deferment would keep me alive
and for those good grades I continued to strive.

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While my friend got a new car and it was all fine,
Until one day a letter with this opening line -
"Greetings, A Board of Your Neighbors" it said
And I knew in his heart he felt nothing but dread.

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They told him for Duty he must soon report,
and he knew that ’Yes Sir’ was his only retort.
So at last he was crossing that big sea, oh damn
To some foreign place that they called ’Vietnam’.

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They told him he’d shoot folks that he never knew,
and the worst thing of all they’d be shooting back too.
But he wasn’t worried, he’d been trained to attack,
And as soon as it’s over, why, he’ll be coming back.

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So I stood on the pier as he sailed away
and saw friends and mothers there stopping to pray.
Their lovers and sons were all going to fight
And they prayed to the Lord they’d all come home alright.

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Then time passed so slowly, and the newsmen kept saying
about the losses we had and the Cong they were slaying
Till one day my friend’s dad with message in hand,
Stood there so sadly, he barely could stand.

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"We regret to inform you," the telegram said.
and it ended up saying my dear friend was dead.
They praised him for courage, but he came home in a bag,
Now all they have left is a folded-up flag.

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Now its many years later, and the news from Iraq,
Is that we are winning, maintain the attack,
And I sit here and wonder just how many flags,
and how many bodies will come home in bags.

August 11, 2008