- Joined
- Mar 20, 2004
- Messages
- 265
- Points
- 53
My Johnny, he came Home today,
From that foreign war, so far away.
And now my love, you're Home to stay.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where are your legs, with which you run,
When first you went to carry a gun?
I believe our Dancin' Days are done.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where are the eyes with which you smiled,
When my poor heart, you first beguiled?
Why did you have to leave Me and the Child?
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where is your kiss, so warm and dear?
Why are your eyes still filled with Fear?
I sense your Pain, but see no tear.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Why do you sit in your chair on wheels,
Unwilling to tell me how It feels?
Deep in your eyes, I glimpse the Wound that never heals.
Something is NOT okay.
DID my Johnny come Home today?
Tom
I wrote this poem a couple of years ago while thinking of a guy in my platoon that stepped on a mine on a rice paddy dike somewhere around Duc Pho.
From that foreign war, so far away.
And now my love, you're Home to stay.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where are your legs, with which you run,
When first you went to carry a gun?
I believe our Dancin' Days are done.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where are the eyes with which you smiled,
When my poor heart, you first beguiled?
Why did you have to leave Me and the Child?
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Where is your kiss, so warm and dear?
Why are your eyes still filled with Fear?
I sense your Pain, but see no tear.
That's okay.
My Johnny, he came Home today.
Why do you sit in your chair on wheels,
Unwilling to tell me how It feels?
Deep in your eyes, I glimpse the Wound that never heals.
Something is NOT okay.
DID my Johnny come Home today?
Tom
I wrote this poem a couple of years ago while thinking of a guy in my platoon that stepped on a mine on a rice paddy dike somewhere around Duc Pho.