By Bill Garbett

I have a friend, whom I love dearly,
He is one of the young/old men;
During many long nights, he was there to listen,
There to share the hurt, the pride, the confusion,
The joy of life, The pain of death.

When the "Moving Wall" came to town, and others were too busy,
He was there to take my hand;
When "Platoon" hit the big screen, and others couldn't handle the video blood,
He was in the next seat to take my hand.

Then late one night I asked WHY?
And he told me I was brave and honorable.

That night, the dreams stopped.

copyright 1990 by Albert W. (Bill) Garbett, all rights reserved

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