Author's Name: Brian Bild
Title: "The Wall On The Mall"
THE WALL ON THE MALLby
Brian Alan Bild
© 1995
On the other side of the wall,
Hidden in dreams of glory.
A sad national loss,
A touching, poignant story.
On the other side of the wall,
Are military soldiers.
Told a patriot’s dream,
Of bravery made bolder.
On the other side of the wall,
Is a nation’s funeral pyre.
Lost times, lost lives, lost Americans,
To a grandiose, macho style.
On the other side of the wall,
Are young men who become no older.
They fought in Vietnam,
Arms, legs and shoulders.
On the other side of the wall,
Far from family and friends.
In humid jungles or high plateaus,
Journey of ignoble end.
On the other side of the wall,
Lives twisted by warfare and combat.
Bodies and minds disfigured,
Our tragedy to know about.
On the other side of the wall,
Are soldiers of an escalating war.
Of bodies thrown after bodies,
And a healing, national scar.
On the other side of the wall,
Young men sent to their death.
By World War II visionaries,
Knowing what is best.
On the other side of the wall,
Military power must intervene.
Holding corruption in life,
To bolster a dying scene.
Title: "Lyndon Johnson's Army"
LYNDON JOHNSON’S ARMYby
Brian Alan Bild
© 1996
An army of soldiers,
Steals into the night.
Out to change the world,
Everything made right.
Lyndon Johnson’s army,
Guards him day and night.
They keep him safe and sound,
Although he’s out of sight.
The dead and departed,
Keep him safe from harm.
The army keeps its watch,
Their duty to perform.
They keep his honor pure,
From defeat on foreign soil.
Long ago departed,
They rest and know no toil.
As if a Chinese emperor,
Who died so long ago.
The army keeps its watch,
Because some people know.
Row upon row,
In line after line.
Protecting the President,
As if by grand design.
Nearby the resting hero,
Ghostly thousands stand.
There to do his bidding,
And follow his command.
How will we remember,
Those sad and painful days?
In his own solemnity,
He’s gone a separate way.
In death they wear such smiles,
At home in paradise.
The thousands of soldiers,
In the army of the night.
Gone and forgetten,
Just a page of history.
The human sacrifice,
Which few seem to see.
Wave after wave,
Of soldiers approach.
A night time confrontation,
Their battles fought as coached.
Cloaked in race supremacy,
Bought at such a cost,
A “Chinese” victory.
Apparent victory – lost.
With lives and wounds,
A peace was bought.
Fighting hard against ourselves:
The war need not be fought.