Oily Tears

I stand and watch as the mother cries,
As she hears the sad news that her son has died,
And he didn’t die from sick or ill,
Nor in a wreck in the dark of night,
He died doing what they told him was right.

I watch the father try to hold back his tears,
His son had lived a scarce 19 years,
Death had come nine thousand of miles away,
So what was there left for a poor father to say?
He gets down to tired knees, head bowed to pray,
At least this son knows this father does care.

I stand and watch as a little girl cries,
She doesn’t understand why her brother has died,
Why he will never again, play on the lawn.
And my own tears run, as she sees he is gone,

And knowing the answer, it brings me so low
Her big brother died, with heart strong and true
He fought to protect, both his family and you
He fought as they told him, the danger they planted
Never knowing their greed, or the oil that they wanted

With the power of darkness, illusion and greed
They create all the enemies ever to need
For in keeping us locked in ignorance and fear
They maintain their control for year after year

And I pray, may the light shine upon you, may it open your eyes
May this world reawaken before the next glorious sunrise
Relearn the value, of the Earth Mother’s ways
Rebuild the love and push the darkness away…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 29th, 2007

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