We love them
like we know them,
like each camouflaged
back pack wearing person
is a mother, daughter,
father, brother,
sister or simple son.

We love them like
they are war heroes,
returning champions
from the greatest
Super Bowl ever.

We love them
like a steak
overheated,
tenderized,
walking till
their bodies cry.

We love them
like they are sheep
bleating from the beating
of bullets, bombs
and lack of sleep,
pushing on
in the long walk.
Till, fatigue takes
every smile and
daydream they ever had.

We love them
Like gods loved
their sacrifices;
Young men,
virgins to life,
slaughtered and worshipped
then denied
the decency
all sentient beings deserve.

We love them
Like they are
chess pieces;
Place women
and men
on the battlements
for the expansion of
capitalistic gains
that wears the guise
Of democracy.
What hypocrisy!

We love them
like we hate them
because they believed
enough to bleed.
While old men lie,
children lie in graves
six feet deep
to many columns wide
and to many rows long.
Even if they come home
they really don’t.