- My American Death

Brief-cases of
     Life-long regrets.
Tail wind tracer flashbacks.

Face soaked with
     War born guilt.
Second hand self-inflicted wounds.

"It's not blood lust,
     Just a blood let."
Well than this is just -
     Civil disobedience.
     Criminally absurd.

Corporate discontent
     Resembles 2000-pound bombs.
Reelection's familiar silhouette.

Unprepared for
     Religious malpractice.
Burning bushes far from forgettable.

Eyes see stars
     And backs wear stripes.
Hands touch bars
     Yet ears still hear:
     "This isn't torture."

Glass shards
     Form a line,
Between barbarian and holy knight.

Reluctantly us
     And our army.
Forced into citizen shackles.

Unaccustomed to tears
     Flowing too fast to tickle.
And each one fears
     It's at fault
     For the failings of our fathers.