Ima Ryma - Befall

It was called the fall of Saigon,
When Uncle Sam withdrew support.
I watched from the bus that I was on,
One of the last for the airport.
A man ran alongside the bus,
Holding a baby in one arm;
Pleading with those he saw of us
To take his child away from harm.
The bus began to pick up speed.
My arms reached out; the man then smiled,
And ran faster to succeed.
But he stumbled and dropped his child.

Ever I'll hear the babe's last squeal,
Then crushed beneath the bus'es wheel.

Ima Ryma

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/befall/