Posted on: Right Angle at Human Events
by Robert B. Bluey — 12-22-2006 @ 01:08 PM
Catherine Moy, co-author of "American Mourning: The Intimate Story of Two Families Joined by War, Torn by Beliefs," has written an excellent poem dedicated to U.S. troops.
by Robert B. Bluey — 12-22-2006 @ 01:08 PM
Catherine Moy, co-author of "American Mourning: The Intimate Story of Two Families Joined by War, Torn by Beliefs," has written an excellent poem dedicated to U.S. troops.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the land, we argued about our troops in the faraway Sand. Our politicians grabbed pork with so little care, while our soldiers risked life, limb and soul over there.
Congress was nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of another win danced in their heads. Our soldiers dodged bombs, bullets and suicide freaks, while protesters hung their effigies on our streets.
Inside the Beltway there arose such a clatter, another Kennedy crashed a car, its window in shatters. The Capitol police flew like a flash, but the Kennedy’s just gave them some cold, hard green cash.
T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the land, we argued about our troops in the faraway Sand. Our politicians grabbed pork with so little care, while our soldiers risked life, limb and soul over there.
Congress was nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of another win danced in their heads. Our soldiers dodged bombs, bullets and suicide freaks, while protesters hung their effigies on our streets.
Inside the Beltway there arose such a clatter, another Kennedy crashed a car, its window in shatters. The Capitol police flew like a flash, but the Kennedy’s just gave them some cold, hard green cash.
Thousands miles away, how could our soldiers know, that our support was more than just pomp, smiles and show? When, what to their wondering eyes should appear, but a half-baked report that made surrender clear.
What of Justin and Casey, once lively and strong, they’d given their lives, how could it be wrong? Patriots fought back, called the cowards by name, “Come from under your beds, have you no shame?”
“Now Murtha! Now Al Gore! Now Obama! Now Kerry! And your first woman speaker, oh, this could get hairy! Our soldiers stand strong as you cut off their funds, they leave behind their blood, as you cut, turn and run.
Stop where you are, Kennedy, get out of the booze, our colors don’t run, we can’t and won’t lose. Remember Sept. 11, and the radicals who pray, that they cut our throats and kill Santa’s great sleigh.
And now, as we look to the north for the miracle star, we get on our knees, and pray for peace here and far. We will not falter, if we stand all together, in cold desert nights, whatever the weather.
We love our men and women, so far from their home. This Christmas we pray for them, so they don’t feel alone. We will stand by them, as they drive the enemy from sight, then Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Don't be scared!