My Story Will Be Told – Neil W.
By Tony and Pierce
| Mom was waiting for me
I had to leave. Trees passed with light poles: Fleeting color and sound, Dancing against the grey. Her house was warm, It smelled of home. Outside, cold as winter, My fate lay waiting. A message, I received. Gunshots overhead, Like lightning, Cracking, Snapping, I never heard their sound. Though honored, I felt no rain Of sparks and bullets. I spoke gunfire With my words. The mountains rose above my head, I worried That I would die. Eastern lands, touched me With their rains, With their wind. Stars passed like lightning bugs In the darkness of the night. Over the sea, Guiding us, Taking us home. |
The words of men
In high seats of gold Were spoken in my ears. I listened, Then waited. Color and sound, A million hues, a generation of optimism, Passed like water through a drain. Two worlds of life, Aglow Love and loss, I have felt them both, And know them well. A word of caution, A suggestion from me: Don’t give up, Though I can’t live as I did, I will still walk, I will still speak, And my story will still be told. This world will take alot. It is your job to take back Or the world will take you too. I won’t give up, Because I cannot give up. |
This is a poem based on the stories of Neil, starting during his time in the military, then ending with his descriptions of the 1960’s and his political career. It was an honor to listen to all of what he told, and we were both incredibly inspired by what he said. Thank you very much for sharing with us.
Tony and Pierce.
