What I Meant to Tell You
What I meant to tell you on the battlefield
was something that would never whistle through my teeth.
In all the battles the world had ever seen,
Flat wings whizzing over camouflaged heads,
Man versus man, Brother versus brother,
Tear-stained girls becoming widows left and right,
I had never once told you my name.
When the barrel of your gun stabbed my spine,
And robbed me of my legs,
I didn’t tell you my name.
When you ripped down my flag,
And burned it with your filthy touch,
When you spat ugly words that I didn’t understand,
And made my blood boil out of me,
I didn’t have the strength to tell you.
And when I followed my orders,
And shot you down from your high horse,
I didn’t bother asking yours.
Your family would never hear your name
On my lips, they would never know.
Because just like you,
I would only follow my orders.