You Don't Get Me
Poetry by Lachlan Irvine


You took so many, as you always do,
Reaping your harvest on the battlefield;
Your youthful crop too prematurely picked,
Not yet prepared to meet you face to face.

There were times when you thought you had me too,
But though I felt your touch and heard your voice
Somehow I managed to avoid your blade,
Leaving our confrontation unresolved.

I saw your face so clearly in the night,
Illuminated by the fire of battle;
Your voice a whisper as the mortars fell,
Exploding into laughter as they hit.

When fighting finally came to an end
You followed all the weary soldiers home;
Knowing the battles they were yet to face
Would mean more harvest seasons still to come.

When wounds of war were deep and slow to heal,
You tempted them with promises of peace;
Relief eternal from the pain of life
For those who felt unable to fight on.

You must have thought you had me in your sights
When you began to strike those close to me;
You even managed to invade my dreams,
But this is where our confrontation ends.

I survived the war, and I survived the peace,
And there are many others just like me;
As we reach out and as we find each other
Our strength increases with each passing day.

And we defy you with this battle cry:

Lachlan Irvine

For more Vietnam War poems, return to the Vietnam War Poetry Page.

Vietnam War Poetry