There is no glory in shatter'd bodies <br />shatter'd minds... <br />limbs stack'd: <br />legs in one pile, arms in another <br />hands & feet each in their own <br /> pile of decay: <br />lifeless, bloodless & useless <br />lacking all means of contact. <br />Head traumas: reality changing <br />personality altering, no hope of recovery <br /> wounds. <br />Where is mercy when shrapnel rains death & worse? <br />Where is glory in dried pools of young men's blood? <br /> <br />Chronic victims do not just die, but live: <br />maimed, halt, deaf & blind... <br />always the young; <br />always the handsome boys <br />with gleaming cheeks <br />& bright summer smiles: <br />the kid who delivered the morning news, <br />bagged groceries or hung out at the garage. <br />A desire to serve dei & patria <br />placed them in the blast <br />of IED's, car bombs or in crosshairs <br />of sniper's sights. <br /> <br />Those not in flag-draped metal skins <br />welcomed home to indeterminate futures <br />& a government's ingratitude: <br />whose sacrifices are taken for granted <br />by old men who never took fire; <br />old men who never even played paint-ball; <br />old men who trumpet slogans <br />while sending tender spirits <br />to be tempered by rounds <br />from AK 47's and RPG's; <br />old men who sit behind mahogany desks <br />spinning webs of misinformation <br />to cover their own dishonor: <br />staining honor by falsely wearing its mask. <br />Those old men can never truly know <br />the costs of decisions made by ego & greed, <br />& are, in spirit, more maimed than <br />any of their young victims, <br />& who, when they are dead & gone, <br />joining those on the other side, <br />will face an army of their casualties: <br />spirits who will slowly raise their missing limbs <br />to point in eternal & silent accusation. <br /> <br />(Copyright 2/10/2006)<br /><br />Hugh Cobb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-is-no-glory/
