The years are long, but the days fly by.
The day is dark, but the sun fills the sky.
The sun high above, with a gun in hand.
The true form of war lies inside each man.
Scars unseen, worn with pride.
The world around, forcing them to hide.
The eyes of the beholder, beheld the lie.
Watching as the truth began to die.
Barbeques with smoke fill your sky.
All the while bullets continue to fly.
The American dream, we've forgotten why.
The American spirit has said goodbye.
Share This Poem