Sands Mask Democracy

I asked a question to people, "What is Freedom?" They gave me answers that only reflected in the fact that they do not know what freedom really is, nor understand what it's like to be stripped of it. TRUE, I do not know personally, but I will not take my limited freedom for granted. "THEY" represents...well..a lot of things.

Sands Mask Democracy

What is freedom?
Can we believe the callous lies,
that taper the wistful dreams?
Children grow into hypnotized zombies.

They sit behind desks claiming peace,
yet flags still lay in smoldering remains.
The ashes were danced upon to the songs of hate.
Detracted wills, spread ignorance.

Soldiers occupied a foreign land.
Their remains boxed and package,
like the mass producing machine.
Boxed and shipped out, their return broken.

Orphans asking for food,
go ignored beneath your skyscrapers.
Money can buy weapons and flashy comfort.
Glass and metal built on tears of famine.

Did you forget the look in their eyes?
The ones you trampled upon,
reached up with agonized looks.
They were kicked down by your militias.

Body armor dispersed instead of bread.
The value of full bellies less than bullets.
Shell casings lay riddled in the earth,
starving babies crying for food piercing beyond gunshots.

Oil shipped in barrels,
drained from the earth in a wake of bodies.
The lifeblood of war sought more victims,
as the rich grew richer, lives became less plentiful.

If they refused to take from the needy,
they were branded as traitors.
A collective clouded greed in democracy.
Intentions are only as good as what you can take.

Overthrowing tyrants masked new dictators,
hoping to grub in black gold.
They toppled regimes with expedited promises,
yet sons return in caskets.

We all know the mission is completed,
people fearful to live are truly at peace.
Uncle Sam's guiding hand has ensured freedom's march,
as he lined his pockets black.