The shame I felt made me sad and want to cry.
The Army uniform I wore gave me pride.
It was battered by the hate from those 
who could not see my soul.
Everyone, up and down the street, had heard too much,
Seen too much that night.
The blow was struck from behind, to my head.
I kissed the ground, stunned into silence.
One kick, two kicks, three and more.  
I felt no pain just shame.
In the distance I saw the shoes: black, spit shined, 
topped by white bell-bottomed pants.
They moved like lighting, striking but one last blow I felt.
Looked up, lying there next to me were the three.
I smiled wide and knew it was the Navy that rescued me.
When all was said and done—shame I felt. 
Made me sad and want to cry.  
The spirit damaged, not broken.