humble wills, with violent tasks.
forgotten souls with guns & masks..
noisy threats, awake at dawn,
how long will this commotion last?

No one cares,
that the cemeteries are running low on space.
the mothers bid their sons farewell upon leaving the gates.
worried, & scared to death i can see it in their face..
We shouldn't have to **** each other to win the human race...

the so called "leaders" dont care that the youngins are at war..
if only they knew the humility that was once in their core.
never setting foot in the battlefield unless its safe to explore..
Politicians never get to see the carnage and gore..

new jim crow.
minimum wage might grow..
but so will the price on the head of a foe.

So the young soldier puts his gat by the pencil box in his pouch..
he knows if he ever needs another magnum that its under the couch...

& as long as his colors stay Piru, he'll forever be blessed...
But no one seems to talk about the post traumatic stress.
.................
Cursed to not follow this order..
it ends up as a disorder..
Revenge turns to a diss, order.
till a bodies rotting in the sewers & you cant stand this odor.

(Tonys song.)



-afj