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That Day

That Day

I sit in stuttered silence, wading through the violence,
In my head it dances roughly, like a plague on humanity.
Through my mind it shifts abruptly, becoming much like loved insanity,
Finding war torn worlds seeking, lifting breathing, like an entity within itself.
Seeking to kill the enemy but refusing to kill ones self.
Fighting violence with violence creating victims as you victimize,
We see the only thing we can, our ability to kill, maim, and traumatise.
With our right we kill the victim, with our left we justify the blood spilled.
And when the smoke if finally cleared,
Who is left to shed a tear?

But in the distance silence rendered, pain beyond expression,
My heart explodes inside creating severe and manic depression.
So with whats left in agony from truth of evil rendering,
Its lifted as sword to lips, the fire seethe around me,
Becoming as a nightmare to the unjust and unforgiven,
To the ones who lay in ignorance and chose to be told the villain!
For the child in the street that dies and no one cares to listen,
To the hungry on the war torn streets of Iraq, we hear and see still no one listens.
And the media plays a sad sad song with worse part left out to protect the throngs,
With bad after bad news but the worst is yet to come,
Protect the worse secrets of America's first son.

For the ones who cannot catch there breathe to cry out in protest,
To the children living in the streets to violent for play,
To the broken mother in her demolished house who prays,
For the innocent we care not for our price they must pay,
For the dead in soul and spirit who keep tyranny at bay,
Standing up for the ones who cannot speak and see not sunlight not a ray,
Taking fire from the ignorant who brazenly yell and bray,
Finding the strength to fight the real fight keeping tyranny away,
There is a hope, someone one who cares and fights for your liberty,
In the trenches of the public forum, mind melded in the fray,

Breathing fires of truth to kill the wrong,
Conspiracy to commit conspiracy is the wickedest of songs,
Raising children to be children then join the fight someday,
Against the nations of impunity who fight withal to stay,
And in the ashes of a broken dream, in america they play,
Hoping one day they can say there free, and really know it that day.

Day That

I think it is a very well written, powerful poem. I just disagree with the sentiments.

Thanks for posting this.