We don’t publish many poems, but with the Veterans Day Parade being held in Kapaa on Saturday, and Veterans Day coming up on Nov. 11, and with this island’s commitment to honoring our veterans, the following seemed like a good reminder of those who gave much for the rest of us and a reminder that while they have done much for us, it’s our turn to do more for them.
•••
The Forgotten American
He is a homeless American.
It is a corporate America.
Tis the land of the Free
He is sleeping on the steps of the capital
Sleeping on the steps of the capital
Bottle in hand and shopping cart full
He’s got a park bench address
And a newspaper blanket
A cigar butt ash can
And a tattered jacket
You can hear him snoring
While he waits for The Man
A veteran in his own war
He has a beef with Uncle Sam.
At the capital
Tired and tormented
you wont see him in the news
He’s the faceless American
Proud tried and true
He is a little dirty
Smells like piss and gin
Government check in hand
His life mighty grim
He was a damn good soldier
Husband son and dad
But was lost in a mine field
Sole survivor, he went mad.
Now he babbles to his mother
Sweetheart and his son
He is looking for his buddies
All dead except for one
At the capital
“Good morning Miss secretary
Is Uncle Sam ready
To hear my story
And shake my hand
Will he thank me for helping
To protect our Land”
This mindless man wonders
Can Uncle Sam be seen
And who made this monster
This capitalistic machine.
Because we won and we conquered
We fought with all our might
We raged we killed and were tortured
For the sake of Human Rights
At the capital
This confused old man
With tears on his cheek
Let out a sigh knowing
The last answer he did seek.
“Please kind lady
I truly need to know….
But where in the hell did my buddies go?”
He kindly gave his thanks
And sadly shook his head
For his far off look was
Filled with dread
At the capital
Well now he’s back to business
Collecting cans
Direct from the employees
Of Uncle Sam
Here you’re sure to find him
Both day and night
Because he lives in the park
With the capital in sight
And each and every day
People pass him by
With a look of disgust
In their eyes
Do they see him cry
Do they wonder why
At the capital
So who gets our glory
Our country or our dead
Or the innocent bystander
Who gets shot in the head
But what about the citizen
Lost without a trace
A truthful tragic casualty
Of the Human race.
And it is a painful beauty
To see this ragged man
He does have a name
Just ask him …
He is
The Forgotten American.
•••
Jana Power is a resident of Kauai
Source: The Garden Island
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