Tired

"Play another sad song today won't you Mr. Max,"
that is what she always said.
Every time that bugle hit a note
and delivered another sliver tear
drenched all in Red, White & blue.

"Take that blue star down, hang gold one in it's place,"
that is what she always whispered.
Every time she heard a mother pay the price,
and drop another quarter upon the floor
for the life of freedom.

"Hey, Max tie another up won't you."
That is what she always yelled.
Every time one of them went marching away,
and kissed their wife good bye,
and whispered, "Daddy can't stay and play"

"Say another prayer Mr. Max"
that is what she always said at the end of night
when she laid down her glass,
looked up at the world,
felt the echoes of war
before she left it all behind.

(C) 2006