The Young and Dead. 

Tearfully patting backs,

Boisterous, stoic laughs,

Warm backs patted ’til red,

To mourn our distant Dead.

 

Cheering the Team, they Roar!

Lament… lament some more.

Tears for the Young and Dead,

“Amen,” the Bible said.

 

The Warriors returned.

Bodies, Minds, Scars, and Burns.

The clapping throng fell still,

Shocked by wounds, ills… Give pills!

 

The pills! Those shills do lack

Restraint. Take? Please give back.

Did you lament Their fall?

Slapping backs? Rage at all?

 

Anonymous. Wounded.

Back your words, words you said.

It’s not enough, mere talk.

Horror’s Path wasn’t walked

 

To earn neglect at Home,

Did we walk all alone?

It is good that you give

Your Gold; others may live.

 

Anonymous, safe to…

Ignore those before you.

You, All, Suffer along

Lest you be Clapping Throng.


© CGT, 2017.

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