Another Tortured Body pulled from the Tigris River
by Bruce Habercom
The battle front will form a vein in the hearts of men
Where missiles be Kings and bullets be Queens with nary a chance to win
What evil doth our war spawn, now is gone the peaceful dawn.
While goodwill spurned, and soil churned, loved ones never to return.
Blood flow where naught will grow among the fields of clover
Where children be old and men be bold and living will soon be over.
What transgression we revise, to hear the cries as a brother dies.
While justice flees, cold enemies, passions never to appease.
Is it to be, our legacy to leave this world to spoil?
Where our loves be lost and life be a cost far greater than our toil.
Fade to rain the crimson stain as tears connect our memories of pain
While brethren sing, tomorrow will bring wisdom from a greater King.
Refrain
Hark the darkened night proclaimed toast all ye men to our maimed.
Wear that medal on your proud chest for Uncle Sam gave you the best.
Let freedom ring and ring out loud, when I’m buried I’d like a shroud.
Place no flowers upon my grave, just a stone that said "I Gave".
Copyright ©2006 Bruce Eric Habercom
Poetry
Gay Love ADVICE
