VIETNAM WAR POETRY
Painful Memories

by:Enrique del Rosario
© Copyright 2001

PAINFUL MEMORIES

Mothers' eyes were filled with tears, their hearts were filled with pride,
as they watched us on the field, our rifles at our side.
But who would know that in a year we'd be marching off to war?
- young men marching off forevermore.

Oh yes, we're burning bridges to those years we left behind.
We're burning all the cobwebs in the dungeons of our mind.
The letters, and the poems, and the haunting melodies
- we'll burn them with our painful memories.

One day my girl, her sadden eyes, came up and stood by me.
I took her hand and held her close then kissed her tenderly,
and as the band struck up the call the wind played with her hair,
then I turned and left her standing there.

Oh yes, we're burning bridges to those years we left behind.
We're burning all the cobwebs in the dungeons of our mind.
The letters, and the poems, and the haunting melodies
- we'll burn them with our painful memories.

My girl asked me about the war in this far Asian land.
She asked me to tell her all and said she'd understand.
So I wrote: "Nothing much...had a strike just yesterday
- sorry, gal...there's nothing else to say."

Oh yes, we're burning bridges to those years we left behind.
We're burning all the cobwebs in the dungeons of our mind.
The letters, and the poems, and the haunting melodies
- we'll burn them with our painful memories.

I heard it on the radio - they're burning down L.A.
and on the college campuses, there's riots every day.
That's not the country that I love, and thought I knew so well -
I might as well stay and fight in Hell.

Oh yes, we're burning bridges to those years we left behind.
We're burning all the cobwebs in the dungeons of our mind.
The letters, and the poems, and the haunting melodies
- we'll burn them with our painful memories.

I went to the memorial to let them know I came.
I walked up to the marble but there were so many names.
I looked until the sky got dark and I couldn't stand the pain
- teardrops falling in the pouring rain.

Oh yes, we're burning bridges to those years we left behind.
We're burning all the cobwebs in the dungeons of our mind
- the letters, and the poems, and the haunting melodies
we'll burn them with our painful memories...
...burn them with our painful memories.