we don’t see you anymore,
children of 10,000 wars
we don’t hear you anymore,
children knocking on our doors.
give them jackets to stop bullets,
helmets to stop the dreams;
bring them back without protection
from the dying children’s screams.
call it a call to patriotism,
call it a call to arms –
the children of our mothers’ breast
are left without their charms.
the politics of wonder
never cease to amaze
the population of impressionable youth
willing to give their youthful days
to politicians without principle,
without even the slightest kindness;
the lies and frauds are swallowed whole
by their youthful blindness.
“For God and Country, Do it, Son,
You’ll come back a hero!”
Without legs or hearts or minds intact,
these political fiddling Neros
destroy our future generations
with bombing contracts and privatization.
Our children come back to private hospitals,
lost in war’s permanent hibernation.