Blood Bought Freedom

Combat not seen by most of our eyes,

Most ears are foreign to someone’s last cry.

A human; a friend, a partner who died,

To keep you, I, and the American dream alive.

We go about our daily business,

Flustered by ever the slightest rush.

We loss our cool; blood boils over,

When blood-stained ground is where our soldier.

Our soldier died; blood ran wild,

Wild like a frightened and alone child.

Unable to be stopped; death unquenched,

For freedom is costly; always takes its percent.

Though in the ground some soldiers lay,

Some never made it home from the fray.

Those that fought side by their side,

Gave their all though death they defied.

As our blood begins to rise,

Frustrated with our freedom we callously despise.

Try to lace our late soldier’s boots,

upon our own feet and commute.

Mentally escape to the final scene,

Where slavery was stopped; someone intervened.

Bullets, traps, and at times mishaps,

All a tangled web; a life trap.

Scared, brave, courageous, and young,

Blood ran wild; blood swung.

Swung the pendulum closer to freedom,

By those brave enough to stay and not run.

Thank you heroes that watch over us,

Not still here in form; but from heaven above.

Our lives would lead a different course,

If it was not for your sacrifice and purpose.