THE POW-MIA

I’m just a nameless silhouette; nobody knows my face,
‘Though many of you pray for me each day;
The man you said you won’t forget, in a dark and distant place.
I am the POW; I am the MIA.

I am a Navy pilot; I am a dead Marine;
I am the wounded grunt they couldn’t find.
But I’m living still, and I’m long dead, and I’m somewhere in between,
And I can’t believe that I was left behind.

They killed me in an ambush, and they captured me alive,
And I died when my Huey crashed and burned.
They over-ran my unit, but I managed to survive,
And they brought me North in chains when they returned.

They beat me and they whipped me, and they worked me ‘til I dropped.
To break my will, they made their best endeavor.
When great despair had gripped me, still the torture never stopped,
And they told me: “We can keep you here forever.”

They told me that my parents died, that my kids were grown and gone; And
my wife lost hope, and married my best friend. But there’s a prayer I
hold inside, that helps me to go on: That someone still remembers, and
you’ll bring me Home again.v

I’m just a nameless silhouette; nobody knows my face,
‘Though many of you pray for me each day;
The man you said you won’t forget, in a dark and distant place.
I am the POW; I am the MIA.

Tim Murphy c. 1986