A far off place called Vietnam,
I'd never heard of it before.
The greetings came from Uncle Sam,
And I was shipped there to wage war.
It was hell in that time and place.
Two days before I was to leave,
I disappeared without a trace,
Missing in action on Christmas Eve.
Locals found me. I'd been shot dead.
I was buried where I'd been found.
Decades eroded my grave bed.
My remains were pulled from the ground.

I'm somes' memories from the past,
And I'm coming home at last.

by Ima Ryma

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