Post by TKei on May 18, 2012 8:31:23 GMT -5
A nation united by the blood of those who died to set it free.
As the sun rises over the horizon, we shield our eyes from the light.
We refuse to listen, and refuse to watch, and refuse to learn.
The world cries out in pain, desperately begging for help.
And as someone out there breathes out their final breath,
Their only hope vanishes from them, to find a new soul.
A long time ago, men fought for something they called Freedom.
They died for an idea, which they named Liberty.
Now, their children fight for something we call Business.
And they die for something which we have named Revenge.
Their families must still pay for the mix of blood and oil,
That their lives were sacrificed for.
A nation disunited by a distrust of each one's neighbor.
Not one among them holds out their hand for the poor man.
A passerby flips a coin toward him, not saying a word.
That poor man has returned from a war, fighting amongst brothers, who died for a bloodstained flag. That poor man fought along side the passerby's brother, unbeknownst to them both. "Freedom" was written across his forearm. The passerby recognized it from photos sent back by his brother. He asked the poor man if he had fought in the war. The poor man responded with his name, rank, number, and troop. Astonished, the passerby gave his brother's name, asking if the poor man knew him. The poor man said "Yes," and removed his hat. They both looked to the sky, at the flag which was raised above them. The flag was not theirs.
As the sun rises over the horizon, we shield our eyes from the light.
We refuse to listen, and refuse to watch, and refuse to learn.
The world cries out in pain, desperately begging for help.
And as someone out there breathes out their final breath,
Their only hope vanishes from them, to find a new soul.
A long time ago, men fought for something they called Freedom.
They died for an idea, which they named Liberty.
Now, their children fight for something we call Business.
And they die for something which we have named Revenge.
Their families must still pay for the mix of blood and oil,
That their lives were sacrificed for.
A nation disunited by a distrust of each one's neighbor.
Not one among them holds out their hand for the poor man.
A passerby flips a coin toward him, not saying a word.
That poor man has returned from a war, fighting amongst brothers, who died for a bloodstained flag. That poor man fought along side the passerby's brother, unbeknownst to them both. "Freedom" was written across his forearm. The passerby recognized it from photos sent back by his brother. He asked the poor man if he had fought in the war. The poor man responded with his name, rank, number, and troop. Astonished, the passerby gave his brother's name, asking if the poor man knew him. The poor man said "Yes," and removed his hat. They both looked to the sky, at the flag which was raised above them. The flag was not theirs.