David R. “Poppa” Alexander

NO ONE BUT ME

Across the fields of grain
Face wet with a springtime rain:
Who lives there? No one but me

Mother and Father working in the fields
The wonderful aroma of one of moms home cooked meals:
Who lives there? No one but me

Crawling through the mud and rain
Army training, but not in vain:
Who lives there? No one but me

Flying across the ocean wide
Wondering if there will be a place to hide
Who lives there? No one but me

Behind a fallen tree, bullets all around
Wishing there was a larger hole in the ground:
Who lives there? No one but me

Men asking what shall we do?
Knowing some will be dead when this is through
Who lives there? No one but me

What was thought to be a brave front
Giving commands sometimes it would be nice to be a grunt.
Who lives there? No one but me

Watching young men hurt and dying
If this doesn’t bother me I’d be lying:
Who lives there? No one but me

Going home on a jet plane
Mind being held as if by a chain:
Who lives there? No one but me

Lying in bed pretending to be asleep
The horrors and misery into my mind do leap:
Who lives there? No one but me

A tortured mind and restless sleep
Faces of those lost in a jungle so deep:
Who lives there? No one but me

Fighting each day to remember not
A losing battle that cannot be forgot:
Who lives there? No one but me

Sharing memories with those who live the same
Trying to understand no one is to blame:
Who lives there? They all do, with me