An answer

Weary and tired he looks into the calm dark sky. His face is dirty, dark and gritty except for streaks of tears that have poured from his tired eyes onto his blood stained uniform. In the back ground the sounds of gunfire’s sporadic burst but yet he still searches into the sky for an answer from god. Since the war started he has killed for his country and watched many of his brothers fall to the enemy and yet no answer from god on why this bloodshed must continue, why America has shunned us for protecting her, why people who sleep peacefully in their beds at night can walk the streets and make chants against us as I hold my brother in arms taking his last dyeing breath begging for forgiveness from god and from a nation that hates him. Why god must I watch my children grow up in pictures and cry myself to sleep at night only to be labeled by the American people and the world as a murderer. This is not my war but I fight it for my country so that others might not have to suffer the pains me and my brothers have felt in the name of LIBERTY. Why go, why? Do you not hear are prayers, are screams of pain as we are passed off as a lost cause. All we ask for is support, all we are given is death, how can an 18 year old boy kill for a country that hates him? You might as well bury him now because his fight is gone, his country has abandoned him and now he waits to die. When will we be given peace, why must war be blamed on us? When will sweet lady LIBERTY hold out her arms to us and cradle her lost children who helped set her free? As tears flow from his tired eyes he looks to the sky, and on his knees asking god for forgiveness, waiting for an answer.


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