What am I doing here?
Had I no better place to go?
People back home burn draft cards
Leaving us lacking
As we watch in horror to the enemy cackling
Smacking down the citizens doors
I don’t think I can take it anymore
People always are dying
Families back home are crying

What am I fighting for?
The South Vietnamese to be free
For some reason
That is not a good enough reason for me
New people come in
To replace those that have fallen
My buddies and I don’t get close
The most I tend to know is their names
Everyday seems to flow and be the same

Why am I here?
I hear the moaning
I hear the crying
Of wounded soldiers
Their limbs lay unattached
And thrown in with the dead
Friends put them out of their misery with a simple shot to the head
As the hut burns down
I try my best not to turn around
But I do
And as I see the flames burst into the air
I can’t help but care
Of the soldiers we lost
And wonder how the name tags have been tossed
Into the firey pit of doom