Casualties of war turn to prisoners of circumstance
For there’s no escaping one’s self
Blood in blood out
Becoming comfortable living la Vida loca
Beginning to believe the lies told by those who are ignorant of the truth
Accepting the darkness taking it for light
Going violently into that good night
Casualties of war turn to night crawlers
These lost sons and daughters cast into the sea of the unwanted
Nothing more than a byproduct of a woman and a man’s lust
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
A whole generation dead to the world
Little lost boy little lost girl
No trail of bread crumbs to help them find their ways
A lifetime of the darkest night with no signs of day
Loveless eyes of the abandoned iced grey
Suicide bombing all possibilities of success
Such a fear of failing why try
Surviving day to day and
Today’s a good day to die
For tomorrow doesn’t look any better than yesterday
And although it’s sad to say
With death comes freedom
Freedom from this purgatory of the forgotten
Escape from the battlefield for these casualties of war
So they stand on corners like targets
Hoping their bull’s eye gets hit
Hoping their time card gets punched
They stand on these corners
Waiting for freedom
Illegitimate child running wild lost in a world of darkness
Living this life of chaos by choice not just consequence
Yet he never knew the tenderness of a mother’s care
And she never knew the man whose eyes she shared
Her father MIA his mother AWOL
Forced to find love the best way she knew how
Little girl lost in this world of turned out women
Venting his anger on all who get in his way
Even himself
Little boy lost in this place with problems grown up men can’t handle
But their hearts are still tender
Like ripe plums ready for picking
And they will be harvested
Some by pedophiles wanting to exploit their innocence
Others will simply self destruct
Generation X is truly unknown
Unknown names and blank faces
Expressionless corpses
Lost souls
Casualties of war
Casualties of war turn to prisoners of circumstance
For there’s no escaping one’s self
Blood in blood out
Becoming comfortable living la Vida loca
Beginning to believe the lies told by those who are ignorant of the truth
Accepting the darkness taking it for light
Going violently into that good night
Casualties of war turn to night crawlers
These lost sons and daughters cast into the sea of the unwanted
Nothing more than a byproduct of a woman and a man’s lust
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
A whole generation dead to the world
Little lost boy little lost girl
No trail of bread crumbs to help them find their ways
A lifetime of the darkest night with no signs of day
Loveless eyes of the abandoned iced grey
Suicide bombing all possibilities of success
Such a fear of failing why try
Surviving day to day and
Today’s a good day to die
For tomorrow doesn’t look any better than yesterday
And although it’s sad to say
With death comes freedom
Freedom from this purgatory of the forgotten
Escape from the battlefield for these casualties of war
So they stand on corners like targets
Hoping their bull’s eye gets hit
Hoping their time card gets punched
They stand on these corners
Waiting for freedom
Author Bio:
I am the author of two books of poetry, Words of a Lifetime and Cry Spirit Cry: for my soul is thirsty. I hold a B.S. in Mass Communications and have won several Editors’ choice awards for poetry.
For there’s no escaping one’s self
Blood in blood out
Becoming comfortable living la Vida loca
Beginning to believe the lies told by those who are ignorant of the truth
Accepting the darkness taking it for light
Going violently into that good night
Casualties of war turn to night crawlers
These lost sons and daughters cast into the sea of the unwanted
Nothing more than a byproduct of a woman and a man’s lust
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
A whole generation dead to the world
Little lost boy little lost girl
No trail of bread crumbs to help them find their ways
A lifetime of the darkest night with no signs of day
Loveless eyes of the abandoned iced grey
Suicide bombing all possibilities of success
Such a fear of failing why try
Surviving day to day and
Today’s a good day to die
For tomorrow doesn’t look any better than yesterday
And although it’s sad to say
With death comes freedom
Freedom from this purgatory of the forgotten
Escape from the battlefield for these casualties of war
So they stand on corners like targets
Hoping their bull’s eye gets hit
Hoping their time card gets punched
They stand on these corners
Waiting for freedom
Illegitimate child running wild lost in a world of darkness
Living this life of chaos by choice not just consequence
Yet he never knew the tenderness of a mother’s care
And she never knew the man whose eyes she shared
Her father MIA his mother AWOL
Forced to find love the best way she knew how
Little girl lost in this world of turned out women
Venting his anger on all who get in his way
Even himself
Little boy lost in this place with problems grown up men can’t handle
But their hearts are still tender
Like ripe plums ready for picking
And they will be harvested
Some by pedophiles wanting to exploit their innocence
Others will simply self destruct
Generation X is truly unknown
Unknown names and blank faces
Expressionless corpses
Lost souls
Casualties of war
Casualties of war turn to prisoners of circumstance
For there’s no escaping one’s self
Blood in blood out
Becoming comfortable living la Vida loca
Beginning to believe the lies told by those who are ignorant of the truth
Accepting the darkness taking it for light
Going violently into that good night
Casualties of war turn to night crawlers
These lost sons and daughters cast into the sea of the unwanted
Nothing more than a byproduct of a woman and a man’s lust
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
A whole generation dead to the world
Little lost boy little lost girl
No trail of bread crumbs to help them find their ways
A lifetime of the darkest night with no signs of day
Loveless eyes of the abandoned iced grey
Suicide bombing all possibilities of success
Such a fear of failing why try
Surviving day to day and
Today’s a good day to die
For tomorrow doesn’t look any better than yesterday
And although it’s sad to say
With death comes freedom
Freedom from this purgatory of the forgotten
Escape from the battlefield for these casualties of war
So they stand on corners like targets
Hoping their bull’s eye gets hit
Hoping their time card gets punched
They stand on these corners
Waiting for freedom
Author Bio:
I am the author of two books of poetry, Words of a Lifetime and Cry Spirit Cry: for my soul is thirsty. I hold a B.S. in Mass Communications and have won several Editors’ choice awards for poetry.
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