by Yvette Analla
to pave the way for war.
Little boys were sent to fight
to return again no more.
He used a country's broken heart
to mastermind the plan.
He kindled their very real fear
all across the land.
In ancient far off cities
different lies were told
lines were drawn upon the sand
and prophecies were told.
A child has lost his father,
a mother's lost her son
thousands of times over
since the war begun.
Our infrastructure is crumbling
beneath the weight of debt.
Families living on the street
more not less the threat.
Five years ago it did begin
with the invasion of Iraq.
Though many of us wish we could,
we cannot take it back.
This infant country is so great
so expansive is our power.
yet we cannot make it right
twice burning of the tower.
Revenge is not an option
without the doer of the deed.
Does anybody feel better
watching those that didn't bleed?
In six years soldiers will be scarce
and my children will be of age
will they be told they must bear arms
in this dirty war you wage?
I will never dig my child's grave
because they fought a war
that lined the pockets of those oil men
whose kids stayed safely on our shore.
~
Copyright © 2008 - Yvette Analla
Published: 4/3/08 · Author's Page · Next Poem