"Between the Crosses" by Cassandra Freiborg 2/10/05

Between the crosses, white as snow,
and below the setting sun,
creep souls of countless lost,
their time on earth is done.
Though war has claimed their bodies,
their hearts and soul live on.
Their legacy is carried,
in their daughters and their sons.
I wish I could console them,
all the loved ones left behind,
because in their hearts they know,
that now was not their time.
It's the president's idiocy,
that dragged them to this fate,
he cares not about their deaths,
his lust for money he cannot sate.
And I think that if I met him,
and if I looked into his eyes,
I'd see nothing but stupidity,
a greedy, repulsive guy.
So Bush I hope you pay someday,
for all that you have done,
but now I'll sit an wait,
for the repercussions still to come.
And when you die I hope you meet,
all those wandering souls in the leaves of fall,
and I hope they haunt you forever,
because you're the one who killed them all.