Home for the Holidays
Talked a while with his uncle, made a choice,
Listened, acted, regardless how absurd,
Plastic man always did what he was told,
Knowing that if he gave, he’d be taken care of…
At least, so he thought, that’s how it should be.
Dreaming of long day when he might fly back.
Hopefully, he’s heard, he’ll leave by year’s end.
Plastic man, hasn’t much use for deserts,
Though he wouldn’t exist without black gold.
But, that’s not what this is about, is it?
Ignoring veiled glances, harsh music’s sound
Angry voices really just meant nothing…
Plastic man, never took time to look around,
Never saw yellow glow for what it was,
Believed everything learned was guaranteed.
So, yes, he’ll be back home before Christmas,
Holiday gift-wrapped for his folks to see.
Plastic man, he’ll return, just as promised,
Bunting, draped flags, posthumous Purple Heart,
All courtesy of dear old Uncle Sam.
“We regret to inform you that
on 26 July 2003 your son
was killed in action outside of
Baghdad, Iraq while performing duties
concurrent with on-going military
operations in that theater. Please
accept our most sincere condolences.”