Poem Written in December, 1996
For the Soldiers
by Jonathan Kraft
Glory and honor can be found here
There is definitely something glorious
about serving your small part in the scheme of a war,
where one person, one soldier, may mean almost nothing,
yet without hundreds or thousands of these ‘almost nothings’
Being willing to fly, drive, or walk into an area
where you may be injured, tortured, or may possibly die,
all for the defense of principles or the defense of a country,
that is a truly noble and honorable act.
But the men you fight for,
perhaps they only reason for your fighting,
they sit atop very lofty thrones,
playing an international game of Cops and Robbers,
where no one really knows who is the law, and who is the thief.
And there is no honor,
and there is no glory,
For those who must fear both cop and robber,
a world that takes more from them than they have to give,
giving back nothing but missiles, bloodshed, tears, and death;…
All because some people you do not even know decided to play
a high-tech. game of cat-and-mouse, though it is unclear who is doing more hiding;
the *shoeshine boy*, or the man who never looked in the mirror long enough
to see who was looking back at him.
To those of you courageous soldiers,
all the honor and glory goes to you.
But I ask you, why do you battle under the control of such a childish game?
Why do you enroll under a system that may make you have to work for such people?
Do you not know that there is another way to earn
*Saddam* when pronounced the way U.S. Politicians are taught to say it, means ‘shoeshine boy.’