Blood In The Sand

As the blood of our soldiers seeps into the sand.
As we force our democracy upon foreign land.
Our unwelcome presence has become intrusive.
As an oil we fight for becomes ever illusive.

Respect for our Presidential office now has diminished.
Sending soldier after soldier after our mission has finished.
This need to 'save face' takes precedence over all.
If he respected this office, he'd make the retreat call.

A 'cover up' policy spreads disease in our land.
Holding hope, finding no resolve to understand.
Mothers weeping for their children; those forever lost.
Fathers needing justification, regardless of the cost.

The measure of a real man is able to accept defeat.
Head held high in valiant effort knowing when to retreat.
A mission has run it's course; it now carries no respect.
But it's America's sons and daughters who are still in neglect.

Such a man once lead who had risen to power.
Countless lives later his respect weakens by the hour.
Who is he now, he's different from his presidential 'shows'.
His justification of human sacrifice as his disrespect grows.

I weep for the children whose parents have gone.
Needing closure for their grief while the war lingers on.
I weep for the parents who will no longer hold their children's hand.
Forever lost to a nation spilling their blood in the sand.

All rights reserved, © Robin Thomas