This soldier is a hero,
A proud disabled vet,
Still fighting for the benifits,
He has every right to get.
To you he's just a number,
A wounded man without a face,
How dare you forget the soldier,
That went there in your place.
The defoliant AGENT ORANGE,
Was blowing in the breeze,
And too late we now realize,
It killed more than just the trees.
On April 3RD, he was one of the few,
That survived the fire fight,
This brave soldier had been wounded,
Three times in one night.
There was no placeto hide,
As he felt the bullets pass,
It was then he laid alone,
Behind a single blade of grass.
He stepped on a Bouncing Betty,
And into the air was flung,
The sharpnel pierced his neck,
And travelled through his lung.
Without the aid of anesthesia,
The medic did his best,
As the lung collapsed,to help him breathe,
Plunged a tube into his chest.
And every day there was a battle,
A constant struggle to survive,
This soldier counts his blessings,
He's lucky to be alive.
But the death and devastation of war,
Still haunts him every day,
And his beloved country,
Turned its back and walked away.
 

By:  Chris  Woolnough