[from Ron St. Laurent]
Was back in the forties we entered The War.
When Japanese aircraft hurled bombs at our shore.
Pearl Harbor was blazing, our Navy dismissed.
In less than two hours, it ceased to exist.
In Europe the Germans, grew ever so bold.
Crushed Poland and France then, toward Russia they rolled.
So we strapped up our boots, sent men Over There.
Told Nazis and Fascists, they’d better beware.
We fought in the deserts and perilous seas.
And died on the beaches that are Normandy.
On islands like Midway and Guadalcanal.
At Luzon and Iwo, with strength we prevailed.
Then came that sweet morning, the sun brightly shone.
When Johnny at last, came marching home.
There were far fewer Johnnies, than left us that day.
For those who returned not, we wept and we prayed.
After that came Korea, a frozen landscape.
From cold and from suffering there was no escape.
Then on to Cambodia and North Vietnam.
We burned up the jungles, with shells of napalm.
We moved on to Iraq, they called “Desert Storm”.
Afghanistan next, our mission took form.
September Eleven, were threatened once more.
So we rushed into battle, its blood and its gore.
To Syria now, they ask us to go.
Al Qaeda, Jihadists, our help to bestow.
How much more can we give, of our youth and our sons?
To save people, who Christians, they loathe and they shun?
We offer our pleas, with the hopes they won’t ask us When Japanese aircraft hurled bombs at our shore.
Pearl Harbor was blazing, our Navy dismissed.
In less than two hours, it ceased to exist.
In Europe the Germans, grew ever so bold.
Crushed Poland and France then, toward Russia they rolled.
So we strapped up our boots, sent men Over There.
Told Nazis and Fascists, they’d better beware.
We fought in the deserts and perilous seas.
And died on the beaches that are Normandy.
On islands like Midway and Guadalcanal.
At Luzon and Iwo, with strength we prevailed.
Then came that sweet morning, the sun brightly shone.
When Johnny at last, came marching home.
There were far fewer Johnnies, than left us that day.
For those who returned not, we wept and we prayed.
After that came Korea, a frozen landscape.
From cold and from suffering there was no escape.
Then on to Cambodia and North Vietnam.
We burned up the jungles, with shells of napalm.
We moved on to Iraq, they called “Desert Storm”.
Afghanistan next, our mission took form.
September Eleven, were threatened once more.
So we rushed into battle, its blood and its gore.
To Syria now, they ask us to go.
Al Qaeda, Jihadists, our help to bestow.
How much more can we give, of our youth and our sons?
To save people, who Christians, they loathe and they shun?
To send more dear children, down the Road to Damascus.
Let “Johnny” stay home, safe from history’s page.
Have him raise a fine family and live to old age.
Secretary Kerry, on one thing you’re right.
No child should be poisoned or shot in the night.
But Middle East politics are savage at best.
Leave Middle East countries, to quell their unrest.
I am an old man.
I wrote this poem because I have grown weary of watching our most
precious commodity, our youth, going into battle and spilling their blood to
protect people who despise us as Christians and Jews. We are not the police of this planet. It’s time we pulled in our borders and have
Americans protect America!
