Have you ever seen the smoke,
curl around your face,
linger in your nostrils, and cause you to asphyxiate,
as an unknown stranger, bent on revenge,
pulls the trigger of an American made weapon?
Have you ever lain on the ground,
surrounded in your own blood and dying memories?
Have you ever wished to be lucky enough to die?
Have you thought about that boy’s father,
who will never get the chance to play catch in the yard?
The least you can do, the very least, is answer me,

Do you know who came home from the war today?
Answer me, can you simply answer me?!
Do you know the nameless corpse that sits inside that tomb?
Do you know the man who’ll never feel the touch of a lover’s skin or,
the rough of the Australian outback?
Do you?

You’ve only ever known the freshly polished, mahogany desk,
you sit behind and wage a war you can’t fight yourself,
You can’t stand the sight of yourself with a soldier’s uniform,
tightly hugging your chest,
or the love affair with Death’s demons,

How can you sit there,
as boys turn into the monsters,
only children know,
and as America’s face,
twists into a beast so ghoulish,
even the Flies wouldn’t encircle it?
How can you sit there?

No angels walk the battlegrounds in search of the half-dead,
God doesn’t descend the golden stairs for the souls stained by murder,
The minions from hell gather the fallen corpses,
feeding upon their deadly sins,

I’ll answer that question for you,
A man came home today,
a shrapnel man unrecognizable to the human eye,
Riding in a pine-plated box,
he came home,

Lower him into the grave and you’ll notice,
Oh, by God you’ll notice,

How, as the Angels squirm with agony,
his eyes will bleed with the silver lining,
he’ll never reach.