By the eyes of the one who’s got a ticket to ride

What is this honor that tears apart mothers and sons?
What’s this honor that makes them die before they get to know their ideals?
I bet you always think about those long and lonely nights.
The other day I saw this homeless guy with a sign “Vietnam vet. It wasn’t my idea“. He seemed extremely disturbed. Two days later, on a boat for Staten Island, I saw a fat man speaking loudly and wearing a T-shirt where you could read “Proud Vietnam vet“. In both cases, they survived. In both cases, I ask you, is this the glory you were seeking?
I come from a different culture, my morals are different and I may never understand, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try.
What is this love for guns? What is this fake freedom? Why are you saying that war is over?
It may be far from your eyes, but other people’s sons are never going home again. It may be far from your ears, but that doesn’t make the screaming stop.
I don’t want to label anyone as the bad guy or the hero, because I just don’t understand why are we pointing fingers when we should be holding hands.
America, or should I say, The United States is a free country, as long as you’re not black or foreign.
I must remind you, guys, that most of the native american indians are dead and life began in Africa. We are all black foreigns.
I don’t want to offend anyone (though maybe I should) because I came from a beautiful country with amazing people, but most of them is blind. And maybe I am too. Maybe so are you.
I can’t say Brazilians are my people, because the human race is my people.

(Written by me in Oak Bluffs, Martha’s Vineyard. 21/07/2014)



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