Vietnam

A threat, a shatter, a jab

His gift of gab

Makes me realize I am alone

While I see his flesh dissolving from his bones

A bottle is his friend

A bottle is the only means to an end

A tear, a gun, a fall

He finds his fist against a wall

He certainly makes me know how to crawl

Power, strength, tragedy

Why do you call this thing adversity?

Chronic, limitless, a pattern

His eyes so hollow, vacant

His soul is windburned

A retreat, disassociation, a truth

I will soon leave from beneath this roof

From this war

From his Vietnam