My "911"
September 11, 1967

I wrote this poem a few years ago.
I thought it was time for me to try to put some closure on the most traumatic event in my life.
This is not just a poem. It's a true story. I guess closure doesn't come easy.
I still have a very hard time when I open this page or read this poem.
Perhaps I'll never be able to come to grips with losing Dave, but at least I've tried and tried and tried again.
I know he would rather see me happy, but sometimes it just isn't possible. When you read this poem,
you need to remember one thing....
It's ok to cry

 

Real Men Don't Cry

Both you and God know I tried my best to save you

I tried to stop the hand of death

as you lay there , your life escaping

I knelt there , your head in my lap

that sniper chose you and not me in Nam that day

Remembering real men don't cry.


I felt the warmth leaving your body and saw fear deep in your eyes

There was nothing I could do or say

Except be there with you while you died

Remembering real men don't cry.

 

32 years have gone by , you'd be 50 now

Too many years to hold it back

Today I couldn't help it

I just sat and cried.

I miss you Dave,

Love,
Bill

IN LOVING MEMORY: DAVID ALLEN SCRITCHFIELD
DEC.13,1948--SEPT.11,1967

I wrote this poem several years ago, while trying to get some closure on the most traumatic event in my life. The story is true.
MGS

Oct99