David R. “Poppa” Alexander


Am I to blame?
I have been over this a million times, the answer is always the same;
I don’t know what I could have done differently.
Maybe someone else in charge would have reacted more effectively.

Am I to blame?
A young officer in a difficult place with no idea of fame;
I honestly tried my best to lead them all home,
But so, so many died there all alone.

Am I to blame?
This nightmare I live is no game.
There are so many of which I have written before,
As I get older, the memories fade more and more.

Am I to blame?
Though the memories fade, the feeling stays the same.
Their faces haunt me every night;
This I guess is their right.

Am I to blame?
Any excuse sounds so lame.
After all these years, I’m not even sure if what I did was right;
I’ve studied and thought but the guilt is a pain of strong might.

Am I to blame?
I ask every gentleman and dame
If I did my best and felt the same pain,
Should I still be held to blame?

Am I to blame?
I guess I’m looking for someone else to blame.
What ever I do, I can’t escape the guilt, anger, and rage.
And to think I though these feelings would go away with age.

This poem prompted the response, “You Are Not To Blame” ~ ©Copyright July 7, 2002 by Eileen Breedlove