To those brought home in the shadow of
Night so not to disturb the tranquility of
Those paladins of power, too important
To fight the real-and imagined-enemy.
Names and dates carved into grey stone
Commemorate the fallen-our youth, Lost
To mistakes, lost to fear, oh, just plain lost.
We have learned nothing from these battles, both
Won AND lost on some distant and barren field.
We forget all those canvas bags returned to us,
Filled with the body parts of our loved ones.
We are too busy destroying our future leaders
With pithy comments relevant only to tired eyes
Trying to focus on some late night talk show.
We swell with self-importance as we honor
The Dead, too intent to appreciate the living.
Those granite markers, will they comfort us?
Will those cold stone reminders help us? Ever?