The Real Walking Dead
We are the walking dead, not killed on battlefields.
But left to die, unclaimed, never able to fully heal.
We are a strange mix of death and a strong need to survive.
We bravely live while our bodies give in—life and death personified.
We are a creation of sorts—a part of war’s unintended loss.
Meant to help us win battles, but WE are paying Agent Orange’s cost.
We breathed in death around us. We were part of Vietnam’s hell.
Death would linger in the air, and now it lingers in our cells.
Though we move from day to day, it seems part of us died back then.
Chemicals decay our body while our minds live it over again.
We walk among the living as a reminder to reckless men,
Who sent us off to fight in places they have never been.
As the walking dead, we carry on as soldiers always do.
May our suffering be for naught. May it always remind you.
That war does not end for soldiers when the battle is done.
And the tools of war are toxic whether the war’s been lost or won.
Remember! NEVER let another hero EVER feel alone.
After fighting for your freedom, remember to welcome them home.
We, the walking dead, will stand ready as time goes by.
We are still on duty, a symbol of those dead and alive.
Just as our wounds will not heal, we will never stop.
We keep watch over members of this club that so many soon forgot.
When the last of us pass, the walking dead can rest in peace.
But until that time comes, Salute! Our watch will never cease.
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In memory of my daddy and all those who suffer from illnesses due to Agent Orange