by Chris Mansel
O son of noble family
Burnt Iraqi children
Separated bone from skin
The American process of democracy moves slowly
As you move through the bardo
Hold close to your soul
As it may soon depart leaving your skin to endure
The acts of degenerates
And commissioned officers
O son of noble family
If you are re-born and are recruited by your children
To join the assault of the free world
Heed the teachings of the Buddha
And not the passions of your heart
O son of noble family
There is love for you on the soil of the United States
If you look for it
(See The Mansel Report: chrismansel.blogspot.com)
No comments:
Post a Comment