The Machine (by Jordan Gauthier)
by scarlet-mccall
I played my part
Proud to serve my country, right from the start
From the hallowed halls of Lackland Air Force Base, Where my mother tapped me out
This was the start of something new, something righteous, and I was devout
Invigorated, young, and bold
I was quick to buy into the ideas that they sold
Some still ring true, not all of it was lies
But time is the great truth teller for us all
And that flame eventually dies
The ages of my youth flew by in a flash
Ribbons earned for what I would eventually perceive as perpetually nothing –
Added to my stash
In the beginning, the mission was clear
Work hard and serve my country the best I can while I gave up many years
I told myself this was an honorable pursuit
Something worth doing, something true
But as time went on and I grew wiser
I realized I was merely a cog in the machine of the Great Devisor
A grunt, the help, a pawn to be played
I'm sure the missions I flew brought salvation and joy to many, but also decay
I felt good about what we were doing when we provided humanitarian aid
The same can not be said for when we brought soldiers home in boxes
The stars and stripes resting over where they laid
Aboard the aircraft, I'd often sit in silence at my station
Thinking about how brave these men must have been to lay down their lives for our once great nation
But that's the job right? That's what we signed on for
All the honor and pride in the world doesn't stop you from being shaken to your core
In the art of war, vigilance is key
They'd tell us to always be ready for the next fight in order to secure victory
But how far we have strayed from the heroic times of WWII
Many of us no longer know what we're fighting for
At this point, it's just a job to pay the rent when it's due
A national corporation that continues to operate under a false title
We travel across the globe, magazines loaded, donning rifles
Fleeting is the feeling of pride in our nation's brothers and sisters in arms
Our presence is beginning to feel not one of peace, but one of harm
This concept – this feeling – is not exclusive to us
This game is played by all power mongers around the world
They treat us like stepping stones, leaving nothing behind but
a pile of bodies, pain, and dust
They play their game, taking advantage of those truly in need
All in the name of power, influence, trade, and greed
Don't let them fool you, don't let them cloud your vision of what you've seen
Inform those who haven't, for they too fall prey to the machine
The Machine doesn't stop, doesn't rest till it's done
But The Machine will never stop, not for a single soul – not one
Built of cogs, wheels, metal, and screws
The Machine doesn't have the capacity for human compassion like me and you
The great struggle for power is a tale as old as time
Whether you serve as a civilian or share an experience like mine
They will continue to oppress, to fight, to tear us apart
So it's my hope that someone reads this and finds value
That I might find peace and lift a heavy heart