Happy Christmas.

I wrote this poem `Christmas Time` you guessed it at Christmas time, this is because my PTSD will not allow me to relax and enjoy a holiday, I have to become depressed as usual and feel sorry for myself, like I do daily, like I feel right now.


JOHN OPENED HIS EYES ON CHRISTMAS DAY A SEASON OF GOODWILL TO ALL SOME SAY

OVER 30 YEARS NOW SINCE THAT CHRISTMAS DAY THAT HE HELD HIS FRIEND IN HIS ARMS HIS LIFE EBBING AWAY

25TH DECEMBER 1967 A 19 YEAR OLD MARINE SLIPPED QUIETLY AWAY TO HEAVEN

JOHN CRIED SO MUCH IN THE JUNGLE THAT DAY THAT THEY SENT HIM TO THE REAR NOT IN A SLEIGH

BUT A HELICOPTER FULL OF INJURED DYING MARINES WITH IV'S IN THEIR ARMS, THEY ARE STILL IN HIS DREAMS

HIS GRANDSON SAID `GRANDPA, LOOK WHAT I GOT GRANDPA THANK'S`

AS HE TORE OPEN HIS PRESENT CONTAINING TOY SOLDIERS AND TANKS

WITH A TEAR IN HIS EYE JOHN WENT BACK TO HIS ROOM

HIS GRANDSON SAID `PLEASE PLAY WITH ME, WHY ARE YOU LEAVING SO SOON? `

JOHN OPENED A SHOE BOX INSIDE HIS MEDALS AND A CARD

HE TREMBLED AND HE SOBBED TEARS MAKING IT SO HARD

TO READ THE WORDS HIS FREIND HAD WROTE THAT DAY IN VIETNAM

HAPPY CHRISTMAS JOHN ENJOY NEW YEAR IN THE REAR

FROM A FELLOW NEW YORK YANKY

DAN.



© Mack (RG)"Every day feels like the day of a funeral"