Oh, what’s to happen to that boy
filled with tales of heroic exploits
and impossible opportunities
mouthed by a slick salesman
seeking to line his pockets with
a hefty bonus for each recruit?
What happens to that boy sent
to some god-forsaken place
with an unpronounceable name
where there’s no stopping fear
when it’s unleashed as anger
parading as patriotism?
What will happen after he blindly
shoots into the backseat of that
battered white sedan, killing
the little girl in a tattered pink dress,
her huge eyes so like his sister’s when
he pushed her high on the swings?
What happens when the outside’s
fine, but somewhere not so deep
inside that tangled mess he sees
those eyes and he’s crossed a line
no man should ever cross
and he keeps it to himself
because shame is shrouded
in the stars and stripes because
this is what happened…
and
it is what happens all the time.