Just the Reality


Children can no longer come home to their parents
because they were blown to pieces by
artillery and gunfire.
Napalm scars the lands
and faces of the unexpected.
Wild, untamed animals
dropped into a cage match,
owners prodding them with sticks
to brainwash with rage.
Red, white, and blue
covered in Red.
Unable to afford life,
forced to fight.
Small paycheck is the last
they saw of their son.
Even God has to pray for
America. He hopes we will
gather some form of sense.
He never developed us to
be so war-friendly.
Semi-automatic reactions
to war-torn rodents
scurrying from a landmine.
Writing letters home
in blood ink.
“I can’t wait to come
home, mama.”

“Is this the ***** residence?”


“I regret to inform you that your son, ***, is dead.”



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