St. Patrick's Day in 1990. As they were reminiscing, a couple approached them and told them that they should forget the war because they had lost. With that, Rob said to the couple, "We didn't loose anything, you did, by not supporting and believing in us". I felt so hurt when he came home and told me this... I sat and wrote this poem." Rosalie Kissner |
"Sharing a Couple of Beers"
Two men sitting, sharing a couple of beers,
Reminiscing lost time of a couple of years.
Time spent away from their childhood,
They're sitting alone because they are misunderstood.
They can hear the whispers and feel other's eyes
But they are used to it, its no surprise.
Although they drink and laugh, there are also tears
It was a time of innocence, and unknown fears.
People tell them to drop it and leave it alone,
For these two men, they have made no atone.
People can't understand why they still like to talk
It helps them you know, no matter where they walk.
They are looked at strangely and with closed minds
They never realized that it takes all kinds.
Sure, twenty years ago they walked very proud,
And when they returned, they spoke rather loud.
Their families, friends and lovers looked away,
They couldn't understand and did not stay.
Two men at the bar still feel the pain,
They remember too well the cries and blood stain.
You see this pain will never go away,
This is the price that they had to pay.
How can they forget and put it behind
When it is engraved in their hearts and in their mind.
They went over as boys, came home as men
At times acted like 40, other times acted like 10.
How would we act, sent to another place?
To see blown off legs, arms and face.
No one knows what they really see,
Not you, nor you, nor me.
Two men sitting, sharing a couple of beers,
Knowing they will never catch up with those years.
So its a time in their life they can still proudly say,
They didn't burn their cards or go to college, they went away.
Away to fight so that we would be proud
And all we did was get rowdy and loud.
We made them feel bitter, angry and helpless,
And we wonder why their lives are a mess.
We turned our backs when they needed us most,
Well, this beer’s on me, this beer is their toast!
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