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Foreign Policy Printable Version PRINTABLE VERSION
by Reggie Lutu, United States Apr 27, 2003
Peace & Conflict   Poetry

  

My son, there is a country
Far beyond our seas
There stands a lone warrior
Guarding the weak.

In the midst of the noise and danger
The soldier never sways
Protecting the fallen ones
from being taken away.

Go tell the Politicians
Stranger who passes by,
That here obedient, sons of freedom
Lay waiting to die.

Beside the open casket
Mourners from near & wide
Glancing at the face of innocence,
who perished not knowing why.

Crying and Wailing fills the air
Pallbearer with crisp steps
March together there.

Fall in Soldier, Forward Men
The command officer cried,
Alas he took his final journey
Well before his time.

As the Politicians tally their score
The price of freedom,
Is at the cost, of much more.

My son there is country
Far beyond our seas
Your unmarked grave, is out yonder
The same person, I'll never be.






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