Through My Eyes

Letters and folded flags, mothers are crying

Fathers, brothers, uncles and sons enlisted in the corps

Across the sea, many people are dying

While the government makes profits from the war

At home the people endure a tragic fate

Strikes were made, no more being quiet

Yet still the government, watched and wait

Now, many working men dead from a riot

I see that pattern as it begins to start

Fighting for oil being controlled by greed

Joining a war we did not have a part

We don’t need all that money to succeed