vietnam

Song Playing: "The Wall (Is Anybody out There?)"

Someday I will no longer write,
and in my absence
there are poems such as these
Written by Outstanding poets of feeling.
I have four Sons, and soon five grandchildren.
It is my wish to have them carry
These values within their hearts.

May God Bless each of you who find
these pages hard to read,
And who reach out to another.

Just an 11Bravo

Dave/11Bravovet
A Company 1st of the 14th Infantry
4th Army Division, RVN
Staff Sargent
Infantry Rifle Platoon

Peter S. Griffin
Co.A, 2/502 Infantry
101st Airborne Division
Viet Nam, 1965-66

THE MARK OF CAIN

Poem Written by : Peter S. Griffin

Fellow warriors, please listen clear,
The curse of war, may be, less severe....
We fought a war, provoked by man,
We tossed aside, God's most holy plan.....

"Thou Shall Not Kill",
written by God's hand,
The passage of time, it does withstand....

Cain, the first, to cross the line,
He dared to anger, The Most Divine.....
Exiled, for this serious mistake,
To bear God's mark,
became his fate.....

Not a mark, upon his head,
But state of mind,
to be passed, for the rest of time....

Meant for all of mankind to see,
Haunting him,
till the soul, be free.....
He killed----Man,
God's most precious creation,
Deprived his life,
it's blessed duration.....

Some killings, justified by man,
Can't erase, Cain's deserved brand....
GUILT, you see, is THE MARK OF CAIN,
The rest of life,
it will remain......

Guilt will permeate, your way of life,
It will agonize, both day and night....
Drugs and alcohol, the devil's tools,
Offer no peace, abused by the fool.....
Horrible nightmares, will end your sleep,
Invasive thoughts, in your mind,
will creep....

Self exile, becomes your retreat,
Mistrust of others, adds to defeat.....
Though you killed, for reasons right,
Will not exclude,
this terrible plight....

Death must come, from God alone,
Judgements of man,
can't rule his throne.....
The laws of man , will never supercede,
God will bring us,
to our knees....
When blood is spilled, by our own hand,
Evil's chaos, will reign our land.....!

The just and unjust, must bear this mark,
During life, it will not depart.....
For those who killed,
for righteous sake,
Burning in hell, not be their fate......

For when forced, to strike,
a fatal blow,
Provacation may have come, from hell below....
Righteous men, brave,
they take a stand,
Peace will come, from Yahweh's lamb....

So my brothers, be contrite,
Pray, Christ will free you,
from your plight....
Though, you bear,
THE MARK OF CAIN,
In God's Kingdom,
you'll bear no blame....!
12-10-96

A MOTHER'S APRON STRINGS

Written by : Peter S. Griffin

The bond between a Mother and her son,
Is a love that can never be undone.
It starts before infancy,
lasts infinitely,
Endures all hardships,
a lasting partership.

To see him grow each step of the way,
Knowing he'll be a fine man, someday.
To comfort him when he's ill,
To bandage the scrapes
from his spills.

To wipe away his tears,
Your apron strings will guide him,
through the years.
To watch his excitement at discovery,
To love and nurse him,
through recovery.

To see his face,
break into a smile,
To watch him grow,
through every mile.
His first kiss makes him tingle,
His relationships grow,
as he mingles.

Puppy loves cause broken hearts,
It's so hard,
when young love parts.
To see his knowledge leap and grow,
To right small wrongs,
he does sow.

To see him graduate and become a man,
To become a patriot,
to protect our land.
To go off to fight,
for what is right,
To pray for him,
those days and nights.

To recieve the word,
that he's been killed,
In a faraway land,
his blood been spilled.
He gave his life for God and man,
You can't accept the loss,
it's not your plan!

They give to you,
a Mother's Gold Star,
Can your apron strings reach that far?
Your heart is broken beyond repair,
If only you could hold him,
oh so near.

Precious memories are all thats left,
Faded photographs,
childs toys, that you kept.
Cherished letters,
you saved from him,
To love life without him,
where to begin?

Draped over that old kitchen chair,
Your apron, the strings,
that held him near.
Put it around you,
tie it tight,
His loving arms, will comfort your plight.

Now, Mothers gone,
with apron white,
To that star,
that shines so bright.
To us, she leaves,
a gift so right,
A Mother's Apron Strings,
To guide us through,
our darkest nights....

In loving memory of my mother,
Leita Elizabeth Griffin.

Should-a been
..But Not..

There’s one who wraps
a blanket around my heart,
The reason for many a thought.
A kindred spirit and gentle friend.
It should-a been…but not.

Like Spring flowers
pushing through Autumn ground.
A yearning so hard fought.
Gentle feelings that are mine alone
It should-a been…but not.

As sure as night skies
are showered with stars.
And wonderment is sought.
For one who means so much to me.
It should-a been…but not.

Shadowed by my souls four walls.
I thirst… as in a draught.
I ponder at what it could-a been,
It should-a been…but not.

GHOSTS OF BATTLES PAST

by: Peter S. Griffin

Spirits of those,
claimed in the fight,
Leave to us, to do whats right.....
They gave their lives,
for love of others,
They've become,
our beloved brothers.....

They are,
GHOSTS OF BATTLES PAST,
In our hearts, their spirits last....
They share with us,
their special love,
Remember them,
for what they've done......

The time of warriors,
a fleeting thing,
Gabriel's trumpet calls,
the Angels sing....
The souls of troopers,
take to wing,
A soldier's death,
how battle stings.....

Don't let their spirits roam,
In your heart,
give them a home....
Their death then has,
a sacred meaning,
Not in vain, their sacrifice,
glowing, beaming.....

To some, he's gone,
eternity, he now belongs,
Quiet, listen,
you'll hear his song....
He's telling you,
hold back those tears,
He'll be with you,
throughout the years.....

Tragic events will stay in your mind,
Like sad movies,
they play, then rewind.....
Never ending,
awake or asleep,
Just a reminder,
their love to keep....

Death's anniversary,
will come, then go,
It gives you the chance,
their love to grow....
Refuse to let,
their deaths be sad,
Celebrate their love,
the love, you have.....

A friend like him,
never dies,
In your heart,
his spirit thrives....
He gives to you,
that part of him,
His lasting love,
you two, now kin......

They stay with you,
not to haunt or taunt,
Simply because,
there's something they want....
Their desperate need,
not to conceive guilt,
Just remember them,
their spirit not wilt....

When you hear,
the sound of "Taps",
That song of,
GHOSTS OF BATTLES PAST.....
Tis their bugle,
pure and solemn,
Reminding you, one day,
you join their column....

Till then, rejoice,
you know the secret,
In your heart,
the locket, you keep it....
Death can't steal,
this love that lasts,
Live on, be at peace,
for GHOSTS OF BATTLES PAST....!

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