WINGS IN THE BOX by Marvin "Swashplate" Camp
	WINGS IN THE BOX by Swashplate While cleaning out a closet,I found a box. Just a dusty cardboard box,without any locks. Its contents unknown,what could this be, I sat on the bed,anxious to have a look see. I dusted off the top,and opened this find, Many old letters,yellow with age,time was not kind. They were letters from me to my Mom, When I was a young crewchief from Vietnam. The letters were short,and harsh to the mind, Words written by a frightened teen,not meant to be kind. Between the lines, I could read the fear, This stack of letters span for over a year. The yellow pages soon fade from my teary eyes, All the good cheer and I'm alright, was all made up lies. I was scared and afraid I would die, To my Mom, I was a man and soldier in here eye. Under the letters, Oh! What a surprize! Tranished crewman wings greeted my eyes. I cleaned them up, shineing like new, I held them tightly,then suddenly feeling blue. I put them in the box, and put them away, memories of Vietnam ,to be revisited another day. Vietnam is with me, like a scar on the mind, To sort out memories, some not very kind. So, When you clean your closets and see a box, Not looking valuable, without any locks. What you may find will surely cost you tears, When those letters brings back those ghosts and fears!