David R. “Poppa” Alexander

THEY WERE ALL THERE

A dream last night, had all the guys together again without despair;
All those who were lost in the fights over there.
Ah, they looked just fine
As if nothing had changed in time.

They laughed and talked and told funny jokes;
Each of them passed around a fresh pack of smokes.
What a time they had seeing each other again.
They were all so glad to be with each other, so long a time it had been.

Each had a story to tell
Not about death, heaven or hell
But about the friendship they all shared
But these guys, except for me, had not been spared.

My dream took on an eerie feel
For I couldn’t get use to having them there so real.
For in my heart I knew they were dead
As I lay there asleep in my bed.

The watch was shared all around.
And nothing seemed different as they sat on the ground.
I tried to fit in and be a part of this reunion of friends
But my heart was heavy and I seemed not to be let in.

They didn’t seem to even notice I was there
I spoke, and yelled but notice me not did they dare.
I felt so alone, so left out and wanted so to be apart
And the separation tore at my heart.

I wanted to explain what had happen to each
If I could I would trade places, but that would be a reach.
I suppose that each in his own way had relived his own day
For me I know I was not to blame, or at least that is what all tend to say.

Many a man lost their lives in that hell of a place
And I would have also if not for God’s grace.
But just before my dream had ended and their bodies again were claimed,
Each came by and shook my hand; maybe I am the only one who still blames.

I awoke from the dream in a sweat
My dream of the night had a healing yet still with some regret.
There were so many that gave their all
Sadly all of their names I can’t remember but their faces I recall.