To the WBC

You live in peace with minds of hate
And praise the day a soldier dies.
You think that Hell is America’s fate
Why can’t you see you’re mesmerized

By shadows of conditioned lies
That find joy in flaming debris
Smoldering where my husband lies?
The war - you say - is blasphemy.

My heart spans the distance to see
Trenches where my husband trudged.
Now all I have is a memory;
A funeral that your ignorance smudged.

For this country’s freedom he drudged
Through boiling days and freezing nights
But with hate you protested and judged
And thanks to him you have this right

You think that Hell is America’s fate
But you live in peace with minds of hate.