Colin F. Jones

BETTER DAYS

~ 1 ~

When I see the dirt side of the sod,
With worm tails hanging down,
Through this life I’ll no longer plod,
Nor wear a smile nor a frown.
Lest I’m buried in my grave alive,
With my own voice in my ears,
As I fruitlessly strive,
To suppress some temporary fears.
Then I’ll be reminded of the war,
Wherein my sleeping pit no less,
I was too afraid to snore,
That my position the foe might guess.
Yeah we slept in ready graves …
As we dreamt of better days.

~ 2 ~

I wear the translucent green,
Invisible and obscene,
For I’m a patriotic man,
Who was a soldier in Vietnam.
There I succumbed to foul disease,
In the rubber plantation trees,
Where we hid from lethal foe,
But not from the rain and blow.
And the showers that were green,
Though invisible thus unseen,
The insects and the snakes,
And our own damned mistakes.
But still I wear the translucent green,
As a veteran it would seem.