this memorial day…

take time
to
look
into
the eyes
of
the dead
see
the person
the
father
mother
grandparent
and
child
who died
for
the political ego
of
a madman
you
needn’t
look
far
the bodies
are
all around you
in
refrigerated trucks
or
lying
in
basement
or
makeshift morgues
but
you may
need
to
pry
the eyes
open

 

so common it disappears…

why do the drums
of wars
still beat
when
so many souls
lie
at
our feet
is it that
the drummer
cannot see
that death
has come
to
you and me
or
are the beats
i hear
a mother’s heart
in fear
that
war
will once again
fill
the nave
as
another child
is placed
into
a grave