I Wonder Why

When we met one Autumn day
he stared at me, with nothing to say
He was very shy.
At this I wondered why.


Does he love me? How could this be?
What in the world is happening to me?
Still, he was very shy.
At this I wondered why.

Graduation came. He went to war.
Viet Nam had closed the door
to my high-school love.

As I gazed at the night sky,
from my mouth there came a sigh.
Another war — I wondered why.

I graduated — freedom at last
to find new goals, but as time passed
I wondered — what about Ray?

I’d think about him day and night
all he seemed to do was fight.

But …I wonder why
who was wrong and who was right
on those dark nights he had to fight
when bombs went off, and people cried?

He was once so very shy
but now he has to fight or die.
To all of this I wondered why.


I helped others in my own way
assisting with births from day to day.
By doing this I found a way to
block out death — I’d also pray.

After three long years he was finally free
and when he came to visit me
I knew something was wrong.

He was not shy, but bitter instead
many of his friends by now were dead.
He had grown up, a drastic change
even talking to him seemed very strange.

Who was this man? Where was Ray?
I stared at this man with nothing to say.
No, I was not shy; all I wanted to do was cry.
Where was Ray? Did part of him die?

Sadly, this was the end for Ray and I
for he had changed, and so had I.

To all of this I wondered why.

Sharon Palmeri
Copyright Library of Congress

Artwork: artist unknown
**The above printed material is copyrighted, is registered with the Library of Congress and is the property of Sharon Palmeri. Permission is needed before use. Thank you! *S* **</strong

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s