Because the snow is deep
Without spot that white falling through white air
Because she limps a little--bleeds
Where they shot her
Because hunters have guns
And dogs have hangmen's legs
Because I'd like to take her in my arms
And tend her wound
Because she can't afford to die
Killing the young in her belly
I don't know what to say of a soldier's dying
Because there are no proportions in death.
Take a moment, lock yourself in a dark room and think about all the people who have died for 'nation.' Then you look into the eyes of an Iraqi mother whose children were killed by shrapnel, and you tell her 'God bless America.' You say it. Because that's exactly what we're doing. We tell them it's for their own good.