All to often Memorial day becomes a party. We spend all year saving up so that we can spend money on a new grill, a new patio etc. We spend time with our families while 'they' are still in the trenches. Crying tears of blood. Dying that we can turn our ac's up and grill some dead flesh. Today I try to remember that they fought for me. Not because I deserve it, much like Christ, they did it because they loved me. Or loved our country enough to sacrifice themselves for me. That's humbling.
Who Am I?
Who am I? That your blood should spill for me
Soaked in the rain of my own greed
Lose your life when the third match sparks
All for a big screen television?
As the thunder marches and the tide turns
The tank rolls through a garden distraught
A baby doll cracked in the sun of the desert
For organic broccoli and steamed greens
Helmets etched with phosphorus streams
As locust from hell chatter in the sky
Sign of the cross on a blood smeared head
So I can believe... or not.
Freedom rings from sea to sea
Over the corpses of the past
Star bedazzled crimson and blue
Each thread written for me and you
Yet like Nike on a billboard
Trudging beaten and bruised
The toy soldiers march on
Through sun and snow
Not for their own acclaim
Or even for glory or wealth
Like a lamb without blemish
On a cross of battered steel
A sacrifice of heart and soul
So the AC can keep going
And the SUV sparkle in the sun
A battle never won, but only begun
They march on. And on.
© Brian Mullins 2011