Another Mother's Son
Poem and 3D Art By: Catman Webb
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Another Mother's Son
Assemble the troops, they have a job to do
Shipping them out to places brand new
Teach them to duck but never run
Take 'em young, make 'em think it's fun
Might come from a bomb, maybe a gun
There just went another mother's son
Business sees profits off a young man's blood
He can crawl in the sand, maybe the mud
March in the desert and bake in the sun
Fighting in wars that can never be won
Might come from a bomb, maybe a gun
There just went another mother's son
Walking mean streets in the dark of night
Foreign places where everybody fights
Looking for answers that will never come
No plan of action not a thing can be done
Might come from a bomb, maybe a gun
There just went another mother's son
We trade off our future for another man's gain
The rich man doesn't know the soldier's name
All talk, oil bought, leaders don't have a plan
Battle fought, shell shock, soldiers in the sand
Might come from a bomb, maybe a gun
There just went another mother's son
Some Mothers cry over sons that were lost
While strangers count the profits and cost
It goes on forever until the people say stop
But until then, the bombs will be dropped
Might come from a bomb, maybe a gun
There just went another mother's son
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