Our brothers and our sisters in Iraq
                Our children, are gone
                and will never return.

                Their bodies will come back
                With their hearts blown out
                Or they will come back

                With their minds blown out
                Or their souls blown out
                & we’ll either bury them and cry

                Our tears and say goodbye
                And feel bad from time to time
                Or we’ll kid ourselves

                That someone will be there
                Their whole long miserable lives
                To help them straighten back out

                Knowing all along it won’t be us
                Or thinking it will, wanting it to be
                Until someone mentions time

                & money, until it becomes clear
                That from our first act of violence
                To our last, we sold them out

                Worse than we could ever bear
                To face, much less admit:
                They might come back, but

                Our brothers and our sisters in Iraq
                Our children, are gone
                And will never return.


Copyright © Jefferson Adams, 2003.  All Rights Reserved.