Sunday, March 14, 2010

THE SOLDIERS SONG. by McGowan & McGowan 2003
with additions and modifications
by Steve in italic script


Standing like hands at midnight
Scared to be living in these troubled times.
What's hurting me is not knowing the truth today.
With tears we control the pain that won't go away.

I'm wondering if anyone's listening that
We are the fire and you are the flame.
The reason I'm seeing it this way is
If you don't believe then we face the blame.

Don't forget about me when I'm out of site.
In the darkness you are the light.
Help me believe I'm doing right.
I need you to welcome me home.

I'm lonely in need of a friend.
Will you be my angel cause this is hell.
Wondering if you really care about me.
See what I see, fear what I fear, believe what I believe.

I sit here night and day thinking about home, about my family.
Don't forget about me.

Please take me home, take me home, please.
Deep within I fear we have been deceived.
I sit here now, again, thinking of home, of family.
When I sleep, if I sleep horrors awaken me.

Nightmares of friends dying and dead in pieces, be.
Of innocent men, women, childrenj in the same condition.
Dead and dying, blood flowing all around,
All around up to my ankles and I kneel down, my head down.

And knowing the crimes, so many against humanity,
I bend my head down, tears flowing,
Dripping to a blood drenched ground.
Don't forget about me and the nightmares that I see.

Within my head, my brain... about everything,
This is about my family, their families, my country, their countries.
Before we all lose it all... Life and Liberty is necessary
To be protected at our home Forever More.

I lay here now on a thin mattress upon a homeless shelter floor,
Joblees, family and wife lost by the conditions of being poor.
Deemed unfit to wear the uniform, unfit for any foreign war.
I fear my nightmares if I close my eyes,,, but I will survive.

A well trained fighting machine,
Trained for survival in jungle or dessert or city streets
And living off the land in any hostile environment
Is what I'm trained to be and I'm saving up...

For a rifle, a fifty cal...my occupation you see!
Already got my K-Bar, boots, jacket and vest
And lookin for a group of citizen soldiers... like minutemen.
Together we'll be lookin for who done it all, to we, you and me.

Pray for Peace...........After we settle the score.


Dedicated to the U.S. Iraqui veteran I met at the Homeless Shelter, Winterhaven
at Newburgh, New York, December, 2008

We had a conversation after his awaking from his nightmare screaming and yelling that December night ....Some Mexican men were trying to help him and quiet him by talking gently to him but their foreign accents wasn't helping at first and by the time we got to him and had the lights switched on he was sitting up and saying he was sorry for hitting one of the Mexicans who spoke very little English ....Someone translated the apology for him and he tried to go back to sleep. In the morning when everyone had to get up and prepare to leave he noticed my veterans cap on the table and we spoke privately briefly ....He explained he got a job selling Christmas trees and again apologized for the commotion he caused....his main concern was that he didnt want to hurt any more innocent people in the room with him....He didn't show anger while we talked but who really knows what goes on inside people who tasted killing and having others trying to kill them. The last part of the poem above reflects the anger that may be inside within those that come home to find things have changed for the worse and their sacrafice may have been in vain but they still are survivors that have more than enough training to continue to survive and maybe even turn things around. God save them, God save us from ourselves.



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