Let the mountain lion eat me.
Let it tear me limb from limb.
It does not wish me malice;
It just doesn't want to die.

Let buzzards hover over me.
Let them salvage what is left.
They mean me no ill will.
They're just trying to survive.

But my fellow man who shoots me,
who doesn't know my name,
and waves his flag of freedom,
but kills those of different-colored skin.

Patriots of different lands
and speak in different tongues
know not that they are brothers,
but think of them as others.

Mankind is a misnomer.
There is no kindness here.
How blind they are as
they drop another bomb.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS