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The Wall (poem)
By Barry L. Reece
We were wrong, terribly wrong.
Visitors stand in silence—sharing
grief and pain. War casualties
etched in polished granite.
Each year the numbers grow, row
after row. Young lives cut short.
A girl stops, gently touches the
name of the father she never met.
Tears flow freely.
Leaders in Washington are not moved
by sentimentality. Vietnam casualties
are acceptable losses.
It was a long war
A tragic war
An unwinnable war
—Barry L. Reece