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War and what follows afterwards. |
The letter came on a stormy day Oddly appropriate for the occasion. I was simply colored white, too innocent For the contents that changed his life forever. The days following were filled With flurry's of packing, Bouts of crying, Concerned neighbors coming and knocking With forced empathetic faces That he just wanted to split in two Because they weren't really there to feel bad for him. They couldn't understand. Wouldn't understand. They were just there to be "good people" And to get a chance to gawk While they gave him half melted jell-o molds For a sort of sympathy gift That would just sit on the counter And melt some more Until finally someone got up the nerve to just throw it away. Then came the day When he kissed Maria goodbye. He turned away quickly So that she couldn't see the tears That came unbidden. He had to be strong Needed to be strong For both his and her sake. He boarded the plane That took him to a far-away place Full of sweat and sand And sun and blood And fighting and guns And Death, Accompanied only by unfortunate people Who received letters identical to his and were dropped unceremoniously into this place That they fondly called hell on earth. A place that they were to designate home Until either one side forfeited Or the weapons ran out Or everybody realized that the entire thing was stupid And they all shook hands And went home to their wives adn families happy. But he could only hope for the latter Because the land he was fighting for Was filled with stubborn people Who wouldn't give up no matter how many men died. And so he sat there Hating this place And hating his country And hating the other country When the sirens rang Announcing that he was to leave And fight, fight, For a cause that he didn't believe in. He wanted to stay there And act like a stubborn, defiant child Screaming "NO" at the top of his lungs Until finally he got what he wanted And was sent home on another plane To his girlfriend And his family And his simple life where the world 'war' Wasn't a part of his every day vocabulary And everything was well and good and actually peaceful. But of course, he couldn't. Not when there was the immanent threat Of the wonderful peace That filled his vamilies lives Being absolutely destroyed by the violent men Who were the cause of this disaster. The men who forced the innocent letters to be sent That ruptured his peace And the peace of countless others And sent their worlds spiraling into something That didn't even resemble reality. He just couldn't let the same thing happen to them. So wearily he picked up his gun And utilitarian helmet, Turned towards the distant gunfire And joined the endless line of men. Men with wives And sons And daughters, all holding their heads and weapons high, Marching towards what would most likely be The end of life as they knew it. |