life ended abruptly by the
bullet of another’s weapon
paid for by a master neither
one of you has ever met
weapon that was cleaned
with as much care as yours
and placed firmly in hand by
another country such as yours
and without thought, fired to
bring ends to ideals and have
certain glory from gods or God
fired a bullet that ended it’s
own journey in your body
your body, which lies there
weapon in hand that surely would
have ended the bullets owner
if given the chance
this is the death that you have chosen
as if picked out from a catalog
listed under ‘means of dispatch’
and you nation mourns forgetting
your choice
never blaming the decisions
that placed you there
yours and your masters
but I am colder and I cheer
not at your death but
at the end you were able to choose
for yourself
I am not so lucky and
I will die unknowing from where
the bullets came
– I wrote this
the platitudes of willful resemblance 