And he died

Written in 2008 at the posthumous award of The Medal of Honor. The poem speaks for itself.

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Today the President of the United States
Awarded a Metal of Honor,
Posthumously,
To a young man,
Nineteen,
Who fell upon a grenade,
Blowing his body parts,
Into oblivion.
And he died…
He saved four persons
From his fate.
Irony.
A blaspheme of living,
A travesty of truth,
Not the act of valor,
Rather the presentation posthumously.
And he died…
His sacrifice two years past,
What took you so long?
Political grandstanding
On the stage of leadership,
Trod by the feet of insanity,
And he died…
Please, tell me Mr. President!
And he died…
The stain of lies
Are permeate with ignorance.
And he died…
Reason has been eclipsed,
By hypocrisy,
The rhetoric of misguided
Patriotism,
And he died…
The worms of ego and greed,
Feed upon our politic,
The road to perdition,
Is paved with this nation’s
Indolence.
And he died…
What would he have become?
What magnificent contribution
To the world could he have achieved?
We will never know,
And he died…
Four thousand and counting,
And he died…
Bravery wasted in a nation
Wallowing in the cesspool
Of religious dogma,
And you thought democracy,
Would change this?
Hundreds of years of inbred
Beliefs.
And he died…
Their blood is on the hands
Of each vote cast.
And he died…
How did his life defend
What you believe,
When you spew belief
Out of both sides of your mouth?
And he died…
At nineteen,
He stood on a great adventure
Of life,
Of promise,
When will we ever learn?
And he died…
Our nation is bleeding.
And he died…
Our leaders blinded
By political party vacuole existence.
And he died…
As a creature caught in a trap,
We are indentured to national psyche
As our youth bleed for our sin
Of complacency.
Each of us dies with each of them,
Their blood is our blood,
And we will be damned for it.

Copyright: 2008, Donald Harbour