He sat inside a public shool one crisp Autumn day
He was everyman, a half a man
His left leg "courtesy of DuPont", he would say
And the first Tuesday of November found him unable to stand
Remnants of his flesh and bone lay mixed with Belgian soil
Or fodder for vultures that gaze down upon Verdun
Fertilizer for rice paddies where modern Laotians toil
Or broiled in the Iraqui sand beneath a violent sun
No matter the locale of the strife that claimed his limb
The cost for his blind allegiance is borderline insanity
A gaze into his eyes reveals a soul listless and grim
It seems that we asked for this mutilation in vanity
Alone he sits behind an empty poll registry
Watching school children suck the life from a glorious day
"That in time they realize the price of this rich pageantry"
Was his only thought as he sat in silent dismay
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