we call ourselves Americans
Boasting about our so called patriotism
Flags gracefully swaying in the breeze
Yet somewhere there is a soldier returning
to nothing more than a busy airport
filled with those rushing here and there
paying no mind to the man dressed in his uniform
just grateful to be home once again.
he walks on alone
baring the memories of a hellish nightmare
one cannot even fathom
minutes pass still no one approaches the soldier
looking as though he's aged ten years
he will finally be going home tonight
to his own bed, his old life
lying there he will wonder why...
why in his own country could no one utter
A simple thank you, a nod, a handshake
Something to show him that his heroic efforts
Are in fact appreciated.
we call ourselves Americans
but our actions do not reflect that it is true
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