photo courtesy of Kellie Elmore
Born through the grace and mercy of the Lord
Workin’ on Papa’s farm since my feet taught me to walk
Mama called me shy, her worried little boy
Happy to plow them fields sunrise to sunset
Got called up at eighteen to kill the commies in ‘Nam
Found myself knee deep in rice paddies
or in jungles lined with mines and leeches
Saw friends lose their limbs and lives
Lost my mind
Drownin’ in the blood left on those hills and in those huts
Red the common color in comrades, babies and women
Numbed my soul in the arms of yellow girls and in bottles of hooch
Got myself hooked on smack when the demons ruled my dreams
When the killin’ was done, they brought me home
Leavin’ me with nothin’ but the ghosts carried home in bags or draped in flags
Papa died while I was gone and Mama sold the farm
Found myself on the streets lookin’ for the next fix
‘Til the shelter took me in and cleaned me up
Spend my days workin’ the soup line and waitin’ for the clinic to open up
Livin’ and dyin’ through the grace and mercy of the Lord
Another great one from Kellie Elmore this week We wrote a story from this image that she posted on Instagram. His name is John. Check others’ out at:
Building A Life Of Hope 