A short poem
By A. Burt
How well I remember the tears.
The moisture rolling down the cheeks, blinding the eyes.
I had just shot my first bird and watched it die.
A moment I will never forget. Or I thought I wouldn’t.
I had taken a life for no reason other than my ability to do so.
A life I could never return, a bird that would never again fly freely.
Then 3 years later came Vietnam and I learned.
I learned it’s not birds that can’t fly but men who can’t move.
I learned that they take the very young because their easy to control.
I learned that if you take the holy away from the young, you can’t give it back.
I learned that you will spend a lifetime trying with limited success.
I learned the changes war makes in children.
I learned how senseless wars are and the sacrifices made.
And I learned that I never forgot that first bird I shot or the tears that flowed.
I learned compassion for all living things and to me that is one great feat.
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