The Bracelet

We all wore one, a spring steel bracelet bearing the name of a
Young soldier, a prisoner of war, or missing in action in a foreign land
I prayed every morning and every night for this faceless man,
In my mind he was handsome and brave, with a shy smile and sad eyes.
He just wanted to be fishing in a pond, drinking a beer, flirting
With his best girl, watching the Cowboys play on a Sunday afternoon.
Instead, he was stuck in a prison, and my teenaged mind could not,
Would not contemplate what conditions he might be living under.
I worried over that bracelet, twisting it this way and another until one
Day it snapped, and I lost one half. I never discovered what happened to
The man whose name I wore. All that remains are the letters CDR Q,
On half a bracelet, and try as I might I cannot recall his whole name.