One brother's letter

Tired of the slander,
Sick of games
Can we study war no more
Give not brother Jackson
Another reason to write
Who do we really fight these wars for?

The most precious treasure isn't
Colored silver, gold, or black
With no feeling or thought to be shared
Not needed blowing tops off of mountains
Or pollutants that so foul the air

My brother who seeks Allah
Does he not also cry and ache
When his child is mercilessly gunned down
Protesting being removed from a homeland
Borders manufactured and imposed by a crown

In freedom's name we can build bases all over
Even put weapons in orbit and beyond
Keeping democracy's call strong and true
But isn't fallacy seen in imposing choice on others
Ignorant of world cultures
No we often haven't a clue

For we have gone so far away
From the hope and the vision
That our exports would be
Instruments of peace
Like the volunteers that educated crop farmers
Helped most those that had the least

There was a time when a picture of our president
Adorned a wall in a hut in Ecuador or Peru
Clandestine aid made that appeal a mockery
A ruthless dictator yeah we supported that crew

The machinery of a military complex
Goes beyond just the induction of youth
The missiles, drones, and computers
Makes direct contact so remote and uncouth

So my blessing for all citizens that can hear it
Is let's really examine the messages
When capitalism unfettered rules the land
How many more units of destruction
Are needed at our touch
How much more blood must we wipe from our hands?