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Who You Are Told Is The Enemy (poem)
By David Connolly
Had to stare, in absolute wonder
in the smoke and stench of the battle
at this young, young Viet Cong,
grinning his death grin aimed
at the boy who killed him, me.
A kid, he was a kid, like me. Sorry, I just
could not then, cannot now, may never get past that.
I should be afraid of, should hate this boy
dying so miserably
defending his family, his home?
All governments, can and do
try to bend you to their will.
You young, clueless Russian Grunts
may, if you survive, find yourselves
shaking your heads also as I did.
I want peace, but a piece of me
wants a young Ukrainian boy or girl,
defending their family, their home,
standing alive over you instead,
and I ask Buddha forgiveness for that.