To Truly "See"

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I am an aged man, the gray of my hair protrudes
from under my dirty hat and sullies my beard.
My knees betray me. War will do that to a man.
Damn Vietnam. Damn it all to hell.
I am a Vietnam vet. 
The streets are my home now.
I traded one war for another. 
The daily struggle that America ignores.
The street corner is my rice field and mud-soaked trench.
I have no quarrel with the passersby on the street,
just like I had no quarrel with them Vietcong. 
Each car that passes by, I know they see me standing there, sign in hand,
but do they really "see" me?
I know they do not "see" me for who I am, a desperate human being,
a hungry and homeless human being,
but do not hold that against me.
For I could be you one day.
To them, I am a nuisance, a stain on civilization.
Yet, I fought for your civilization.
Do not admonish me when I say "good day."
Do not curse me under your breath.
I am all that you are, maybe more,
even if you are unable to "see" this for yourself.
There are some, though, that "see" me differently than all the others.
These human beings "see" me, know me and empathize with me.
To them,
I am a man,
a fellow human being,
a hero,
a kind person,
and most importantly, someone worth "seeing."

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