arms waving in vocal acquiescence

to precepts held so dear,

remember --

the child at play

within war torn city walls

who, in innocence treads

upon the errant mine,

diffuses suddenly,

red vaporous rain,

and is no more.

 

Before you cheer the dedicated youth,

lulled by adventure

to march freedom's dirge,

remember --

the mother

bereft of a son,

mourning for kinsmen

ripped from their youth

amid the piercing pain

of death at the hands

of friendly fire.

 

Before you turn your eyes heavenward

toward the empty sky

thanking your God for freedom,

remember --

the woman with child

in desperation silent, stalked,

as she places a corner of blanket

gently -- tenderly,

crushing the signal cries

as tears fall from hollow eyes

onto the limp form

of freedom's sacrifice.

 

Before you cry in protest

over the burning of that flag

you so revere,

remember --

the swollen faces,

burnt hands open wide,

of children maimed

and villages strafed in flames,

the shadowed remnants of souls

etched on building walls.

 

Remember,

and weep at dawn

at the raising of that flag.