I'm sitting here in my chair today,
Staring at the flag they gave,
The day we laid my brother down,
In the little graveyard outside of town.
For in his youth he had returned,
From Vietnam where he did his term,
Where we sent him long ago,
To protect and serve us here at home.
And he came home within three years,
From the naval ship, the USS Rainier.
Then as the years rolled slowly by,
His small body withered and died.
Agent Orange, they call it today,
But compensation they don't pay,
From the prostate cancer and PCT,
myeloma, asbestos and more of these.
All those pesticides that we sprayed,
Quickly shortened my brothers days.
I have fought so long and hard to find
The truth before I lost my mind.
But to no avail was their help,
So I had to take it upon myself.
For all I got from those up high,
Was falsified records to out and out lies.
"It's not service related," they've always said,
But I'd like to know, "WHY IS MY BROTHER DEAD?"
Now I'm turning this over to the Lord above,
In the memory of my brothers love.
Written by:
Thelma Shutters
Dedicated to:
Tom
