It reinvents attitudes and aptitudes,
and we delve into its scheme, open minded,
open hearted, and ready for the cause at hand-

Made us who we are; Gave us comfort for a while,
Only for a short story or two; Then we felt the need
to do it all over again- A nightmare for mankind's theoretical need
to freedom and rights-

There will always be another in the next generation;
on this side of the world or that-
Big houses; fine cars; cold musty caves and graves-
Crossed words fall in the cross hairs of civilized societies-

History books read by the children; Lessons go unlearned;
Rewritten through the ages, for the following class-
One head decides; One hand waves the wand-
and the first shot of war is guzzled down without another thought-

We find ourselves drenched in the blood of ours and theirs;
bathing in the sand, sun, sweat and tears-
Flooded in the sorrow of broken hearted Mothers-
and the amniotic fluid of a pregnant widow-

Ah, 'tis the essence of war in the foothills of yonder's' mountain;
crashing into the lives of all in its shadows-
There's no escaping the pain of its subtle truisms-
yet we go back time after time after time once more-

Stale odors of anger drift where patriotism once proudly stood,
onto the tidy closet floor of our dying youth-
On the mantle of family, a three sided memory;
until a snapshot is all that's left-

When the last shot is fired, and the tally is done;
we'll search through ashes of another war fought-
Medals will be pinned on chests of the brave-
and another generation of chafed silence will go without notice

© Lisa Hilbers
2/27/2006