Should every generation learn
And grow its own regrets
Should every generation find
How horrible it gets
How fortunate to never taste
The meals of bread and water
How fortunate to never feel
The burning winds of slaughter
To see it in a movie
Or read it in a book
To know the world is bleeding
But never have to look
We send our soldiers off to war
Their boots and buckles glisten
They come back with their tales of loss
And we refuse to listen
I huddled underneath a desk
And that was never fun
Even second-graders knew
There was no place to run
We grew up and we did our best
To never have to fight
Today I’m not so certain
That what we did was right
We quietly accept the fact
That spies are on our phones
Everyday we overlook
The sleeper cells and drones
Can you, in my rambling
Detect a point of view
Do I sound non-committal
Perhaps…because it’s true
Could it be that battle
Is the only way to go
Or can we be the people
Who finally just say, “No.”
Now, imagine in a world
Of faction and division
You’re the one who has the job
Of making that decision