Vietnam Vet

To the 58,000 who did not return

If you haven’t held
The brains of a friend
In the palm of your hand...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t seen
Your leg hanging on
By a thin thread of skin...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t smelled
Napalm singed flesh
Or white phosphorous burning within...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t killed
A grenade wielding child
Or yourself with different skin...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t tried
To explain your brain
To a spouse who won’t understand...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t heard
“He was so different
Before he went over there!”
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t sat
Straight up in bed
At a startling sound in the night...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t touched
A name on The Wall
And remembered a face and a scream...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t been
So scared that you cried
And begged God to make it stop...
Then you may be sane.
If you haven’t lived
For twenty five years
With all this inside...
Then you may be sane.
But you’re not us!