To lie down and cry

Would be to admit defeat

For a man

A soldier

Etching in his yellow notebook

The war rages on out there

A sky full of bullets and smoke

Howls of the innocents

Where are the government men?

Who shout the war cry loudest

Where are their guns and blood?

Where are their nights in a hole beneath the skies like July?

Where are they when American hometowns die?

In the house with a dog whistle and a drink

By

Aaron Echoes August