Then came the day that the sky turned to gray. The dark clouds rolled in and the calm paved the way for the storm. When I was a child I could not understand why thousands were dying in far away lands from the guns and the flames and the bombs. The veil has been lifted, my innocence drifted away. We can’t remain silent, we must end all violence today. But peace will elude us until we forget how to hate.
The radio spoke of the war in the East, and children who starved as we sat down to feast once again. The TV set showed us the pictures of death. The President lied to us over his breath once again. And again.
And against all we know to be right, we have glorified fighting and killing and blood. We sent our young men out to die in the jungles, in paddies, in fields, in their prime, in the mud.
The blame has been shifted. The dead are all listed by name. The Wall tells the story of honor and glory and shame. Memories preclude from confining to the past all the pain.