We love the sight of blood.
The sights of bodies hitting the ground with a 'thud'.
Because to us, that's a win.
Somehow forgetting the pain we had laid upon the families of the slain.
We congratulate our soldiers and raise our heads high for our troops.
They do that in other countries too.
But because we are so stricken with war and so thirsty for peace.
Most of those soldiers never make it back home to share the peace and bathe in the sweet feeling of being released.
We cause pain.
We invented greed.
All because we wanted to be freed from our chains that were placed to keep us in place.
We fought day and night.
We fought a tough fight.
But we got what we wanted eventually.
So why are we still fighting?
We are powerful.
We are deadly.
We sing the songs of the soldiers.
Carrying gigantic boulders that weigh us down, but do we care?
No.
Because we are American.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
