Hold onto my heart and see that it bleeds,

for their dreams that are broken beyond repair.

Watch their tears run down the dirty street,

As they agonize over their needs.

I have found his lair,

in the empty eyes of the children at my feet.


So much pain and so much sorrow,

Death is welcomed in to take his dinner.

Everyone here lacks the courage to ask why

politicians assure everything will be alright tomorrow,

But time only passes on, demoralizing them until they’re a sinner

forced to live with Him until the day they die.


Tell me there is a God that can save his sons and daughters.

For what seems like an answer, another person goes missing.

I can’t bare the idea of a God with a blind eye.

People think I am trying to give hope to martyrs,

but am I the only one who is listening?

“HELP ME! HELP ME!” is what they desperately cry.






Turn off the fights and turn on the lights.

Enlighten me on the ethics of our plight,

as I walk down the barred hall

faster then the kid pushed up against the wall

with a gun pointed between his eyes.

Is this all lies?

Or am I being told the truth?

That is the strategy they follow,

as we wallow in a tide you said was low.

Deception is our friend and foe.

Deception is key to manipulation.

So go try to swallow the truth.

You’ll just end up chocking on a lie.

They say an eye for an eye

but with only one eye how can u see the picture I’m drawing.

You think I’m only drawing a blank,

because that is all you want to see.

We are a people with so many regrets

that we are allowed to forget.

No one agreed and it’s gone on to long.

It’s no wonder no one is rushing to your aid.

What have we accomplished with all our killing?

Just cut our own wrists and Look! we are left bleeding.

Families crying on their knees in the churches aisle,

you’ve put everyone else here in denial.

What is going to happen on the dawn

when my brothers in arms are all gone?






Behind him, lightning lights up the sky.

He’s running blindly from the storm as he cries,

because he was molded from a man that was coy

to a man shooting some other mother’s beloved boy.

The thunder is explosions; the rain is blood.

It starts to sprinkle upon his head, a prelude to the upcoming flood.


Puddles are crimson that he splashes through.

“America, you’ll find him staunch and true,”

are his mother’s words five years ago noble but now only mock.

His honor has been shattered upon a tiny rock

on the hill with an indomitable will ruling from the shadows of the house.


Many man with frayed honor have had their lives unnecessarily doused.

He is trying to flee from the same fate.

His scheduled visit from Death should be fashionably late.

His mother had said, “Place a gun upon his shoulder; he is ready to do or die.”

Maybe that would be true if this hadn’t been all a lie.


Everyone was in favor but now is begging for it to go.

But that just wont do.

“I didn’t raise my boy to be a soldier,”

is what his mother whimpers as she cries on his Aunties shoulder.

“My boy was to be my pride and joy.”


Deep inside, he knows he can’t escape the pointless blood shed.

But why should he die for those who misled?

Just so “our country can be free”, every man must fall?

Those five words are how the Uncle wearing the flag secretly tells him,

“you are just damned after all

Here at the geographic base.”


He has found that the man of the house on the hill has lost our face.

Turned the white paint red,

with all the murdered dead.

The worst part is (to end our plight

and bring his brother in arms home) they must keep raging on with the fight.





Standing up there giving his grandiloquence,

doesn’t anyone see it as ponderous?

Words are his snakes, causing blind consequence

so cover your ears to be one of the courageous.




Filed under Mr. Stacker


  1. Excellent. I love the way you’re weaving this tale. What stands out to me is the notion that when politicians tell you their plans and then it turns out they were lying…. and then they do it again… Can’t any one see through this?!

    And yet when it comes to solutions on the ground… therein is the sticking point. Do we want self-determination? Or be part of the manipulation?

    I believe in Truth (which is Peace which is Justice which is Love which are all attributes of God). And though this is a noble cause to fight for, what is the criterion to definitively claim: ‘yes, this is it’? Therein is another sticking point.

    • J.R.Taylor

      Thank you Mod! Those are the themes for sure flowing through these poems and the entirety of the work. I hope you enjoy the rest of the body!

  2. Hmmmm. Not too sure about these ones… (Sorry, im im a blunt mood today)… But i liked the last one! The snake tongued :)

    • J.R.Taylor

      That is perfectly fine! I love having so critical fees back. I need more of it!

      • I had to come back and read it again, thinking no way I can be critical about your works, because im always in awe with them, but today was the same like yesterday. And then i thought.. Maybe because they have personal significance to you too much that i cant relate?
        Either way, im looking forward to read the others!

      • J.R.Taylor

        I hope the rest are more satisfying and live up to the expectations! But I’m not sure. I was just angry at what had been going on here. The Iraq war and the dumb choice it was. The emptiness that it made me feel. The hollowness that it seemed to cause. The isolation it created.

      • The most important thing – that you live up your own expectations :)

      • J.R.Taylor

        Oh, it does, :). I don’t put up anything I’m not super proud of. It gets off to a slow start but I know it picks up…this chapter is all about setting a stage.

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