i need a poem about agent orange i want one like defining how there life has changed after the war?

Question

i want the poem about the effects of agant orange on the pople after they got back home and how they are scard of things how he stares out into space just dreaming about if hes still at war

Answer 1

Admiral Zumwalt sprayed the jungle
All he killed was his son...TD

Answer 2

Have you done a more direct/specific search using keywords?

Agent Orange wasn't strictly what might cause Post war notions or expressions. IT manifested and still does, in a very real, physical sense...albeit that could continually encourage the nightmarish recall.

I'll offer one of my own, crafted now as I sit here.

"We thought we knew, what our time would be like,
yet found little dream time for home.
The Jungles were hot, infested and dark,
smelling of Blood, Napalm, and Loam.
We had no clue, nor was it offered
that the enemy knew us better,
as after the deed, and after the fact,
little our knowing would matter.
We had to breathe; a natural thing,
the air that dictated our lives.
We came home finally joyful
to Mothers and children and wives.
Problems arose soon after; hopsitals were overcrowded
as many of us lay in pain, in the nights we often shouted.
From my "Sterile" cot I peer, through a window to a cloudless sky.
Not strictly cursing my afflictions, but always asking "WHY?"

Steven Wolf

Answer 3

In the republic of Viet Nam,
Saigon is the spot.
Where we`re doomed to serve our country,
In the land that GOD forgot.

Camped in the hills and jungles,
O`re there where the men are blue.
Right in the middle of nowhere,
8,000 miles from you.

We suffer,sweat,we get out of hand.
These things a man can`t understand.
we`re not convicts or killers,
But defenders of our land.

We are soldiers in the ARMY,
Earning our measly pay,
Defending those who have millions,
For two and a half a day.

Nobody knows we are living,
And nobody gives a dam.
Soon we`ll be forgotton,
While dying in Viet Nam.

The time we served in the ARMY,
The time of our life we missed.
For heavens sake don`t get drafted,
And watever you do, don`t enlist.

But wen we pass those pearly gates,
We`ll hear St. Peter yell!!
Fall in you guys from Viet Nam,
You`ve served your hitch in HELL!!!!

Answer 4

Look up Wilfred Owen