How Many Times Must I Go

By Norman Michael Nelson

How many times must I go until you see my walk is slow.

It’s not the movement of my legs, its my mind that needs the time, I beg.

 

You have quit on this war and you’re deaf to a nation’s fears.

A nation that has waited for years.

 

This war will not end as long as you keep

 treating our enemies as our friends.

 

My buddies and I lie here in this ditch.

Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall, we never bitched at all.

 

Instead of help like tanks and planes.

You threw on our lap a shooting policy that reads like crap.

 

There’s nothing left except bad memories and good friends.

At least they’ll be here if I feel the end.

 

We do not see what has happened yet.

But we feel the bad like all good soldiers have.

 

It’s all around and the only comfort is this hole in the ground.

The earth, we caress its bosom, and pray we only see the top.

But even as I lay here the shooting never stop.