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haka
Buried Alive

If dead men could just walk - disappear from our dreams. If a switch could just silence our dead friendsí pained screams! If only the image of bloody lurid red dirt could conceal the visions of the wounded and hurt.

If only the years could erode all our pain If only the memories would never remain If only the grave marching of dead menís feet was not reinforced when our hearts missed a beat.

Like wraiths meandering through our hell on this earth Asking, no, pleading to be shown their true worth. We who canít even come to terms with ourselves Bear the incredible burden for both of our hells.

The discord in the reality of their death and our life Conceals all clear knowledge at why we survive. We died! Our minds died in that place of pure hell doomed ever to wander, a place never to dwell.

©Anthony W. Pahl
14th February 2000

For more poetry and stories from Australian Vietnam Veteran, Anthony W. Pahl
Anthony Pahl's Websites
http://iwvpa.net/pahlaw/index.php

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