The Lies of Freedom.

by Poet on the Piano   May 28, 2018

You are told this is how a young man
finds honor, that to die for one's country
would be the ultimate sacrifice;
yet it's no secret we purposefully fund wars -
America's greed as the largest arms dealer.

Feeling like there is no other option,
wanting to secure an education and future,
you trek into unknown territory with head lifted
and leave all security you've ever had behind -
now you aim to please the greatest puppeteer
so war can keep the world centered.

No guidelines exist on how to return home
after being injured then discharged;
you roam cities that once welcomed with open arms,
strangers who once clothed and cared for wounds...
these streets now call you an outsider
as you wander without a dollar to your name,
trying to set up camp where the law won't forbid it.

And we let you freely bleed
while propaganda continues,
sending troops to a relentless, meaningless war
only to leave them begging on intersections
cold, hungry and fighting PTSD.


"The only way to honor fallen soldiers is to stop creating so many of them."


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Tanya Southey

    True story.

  • 1 year ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Brilliant and spot on assessment. An important thought provoking piece. Milly x

  • 1 year ago

    by Mahal Ko Kuya Ko

    You speak truthfully! Can't find words for this! Just great!

    --- MKKK

  • 1 year ago

    by Michael

    Just brilliant MJ :)x

  • 1 year ago

    by Ben Pickard

    My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
    To children ardent for some desperate glory,
    The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
    Pro patria mori.

    The last few lines from Wilfred Owen's 'Dulce Et Decorum' war poem.
    I think the Latin bit translates as 'to die for your homeland is honour' or something like and , obviously, Owen is challenging that as he has lived it and seen others live and die through it in horrible circumstances.
    Anyway, to stop the ramble, this reminded me of that idea - there is nothing noble or honorable about war.

    Take care

More Poems By Poet on the Piano

People Who Liked This Also Liked