Tuesday, May 3, 2011

At What Price, Freedom?

Impressions: in Red, White, and Blue

we were born into this,
nurtured, raised
in belief that some types of killings aren’t wrong,
some deaths are hindrance to terror,
and duty trumps murder
every time,
‘war crimes’ is a relative term
for which the enforcer can never be convicted,
so we turn blind eye to
similar sins,
knowing sometimes violence
cannot be prevented

at least, this is what we tell ourselves,
in order to sleep at night on
colluded beds,
because even if we never pull one trigger
we applaud the round
that cuts down the head

it’s a dark and thankless feeling
in the moment when you know what exists
behind the system,
where evil and good are identical twins,
too hard to tell
the difference

I will always love my country,
but I hate the way it holds against my tongue,
like some unheard profanity
fighting to leak out,
vulgar, seeking to
lash and destroy,
as kids, we learn we must
whisper bad words,
and there are places where America
is the ultimate curse,
bringer of tears,
utterance of death,
so bad, its name is whispered reminder
a sudden loss of breath

for we are a nation that openly
counts the hands we feed,
overlooking the ones we boldly cut off,
bravado, as if lesser evil
doesn’t reek the same, or some forms of
filth are easier to wash off

we will ache for a day when
all our wars end,
and we will attempt to mend
our broken name,
we will try to erase nightmares
patch-worked beneath our lids,
after we’ve put down our guns,
packed up our honor,
and tried to wash the blood that stains,

will we teach our kids the truth of this nature?

how patriotism is often death to save life,
necessary torture,
or an awkward beast,

we have stuck our teeth into the heart of
this world,
will we teach them how freedom
almost never means peace?