Red, White and Blue Dreams
by Diana Reh Hunt
Red, white and blue dreams
born in sandbox games,
rocked to stars ‘n stripes lullabies
in cradles of freedoms to come.
Young hopes fly high on tire swings
when the dreamers’ smiles outshine the sun.
Red, white and blue dreams
come from family farm to city slum;
colors blend…
“that” the training will fix,
for the time being, anything is “mox-nix”.
Red, white and blue promises
sure don’t measure up when you lose your soul to the dreams
and all those buddies in jungle steam and government schemes
who cover missing bodies and leave souls in tatters;
twisting stories in all that matters.
Tents become chapels lined with bloody flags,
chaplains cry, “Hell!”
yanking off their own dog tags.
yanking off their own dog tags.
Hurry up and wait in desert heat
while life runs dry with each heartbeat.
Infidel smiles and loses his head
while the “faithful” laugh as they scorn the dead.
From land, air, sky and sea,
come the dreamers,
each a hero in his or her own to be.
Purple Hearts and broken kings,
these are things that sacrifice brings;
but they mean nothing in the end
while torn minds and lives can’t mend.
Young hopes still fly high on tire swings
and red, white and blue dreams are born in sandbox games,
for these are things not even truth can tame.
