The Army took my Jack, my loving man,
sent him to Iraq to play in the sand,
now he sleeps on the rocks in Afghanistan.
We used to let our passions boil
now he sleeps on foreign soil
protecting my share of the foreign oil.
They used him up and sent him back
with his busted ass in a gunny sack,
I don't know Jack.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Don't Know Jack
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2 comments:
What a wonderful and emotive war poem. Publish it anywhere to any prompt it needs to be read.
sad piece on the consequence of a war, well done.
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