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A Heart That Beats No More
Ryan Harvey
A Heart That Beats No More
a child from my high school was sent off to iraq.
he got shot in the head, he's never coming back.
i didn't really know him, but i know a lot of kids,
who sold themselves as soldiers, whose fate may be like his.
it makes me think of high school, and the kids who walked the halls.
and i wonder how many of them, went off to heed the call...
who closed their eyes so quickly and bought the myth of war:
the promises of honor, or a heart that beats no more...
i think about that hallway that was right outside the gym.
i think about that doorway, there were students coming in.
right by the cafeteria, where lunch was everyday.
where the army had their table, and gave free pens away...
i saw those pens a lot, "be all that you can be,"
murder a couple families, and we'll pay for your degree.
they always mentioned money, as if soldiers came home rich.
they tricked you into killing, and you fell for it.
i remember many times when i saw that table there,
and i cursed myself to think, that i never made it clear,
that this is not normality, it's not another trend,
it's soldiers in my hallway, murdering my friends!
now i say it loudly, wishing i was there:
"fuck you, recruiters! stop targeting my peers!
it's not my war to fight in, and neither is it yours!
you're sending kids like me to die, in other peoples' wars!"
so stop and think, my friends,
next time you see marines,
talkin' to your classmates,
think just what it means.
'cause soldiers are not heroes,
let's make it clearly known:
they're kids like you and me,
whose hearts and minds were overthrown.
don't be scared of nothin', please take this advice.
if they start talkin' to your classmates, stand your ground and fight.
and don't be fooled by fables, that the textbook authors type.
their wars are fought for profit, not for peoples' rights.
Un Corazón Que Ya No Late
Un chico de mi escuela secundaria fue enviado a Irak.
Recibió un disparo en la cabeza, nunca volverá.
Realmente no lo conocía, pero conozco a muchos chicos,
que se vendieron como soldados, cuyo destino podría ser como el suyo.
Me hace pensar en la secundaria, y los chicos que recorrían los pasillos,
y me pregunto cuántos de ellos, se fueron a responder al llamado...
quienes cerraron sus ojos tan rápido y compraron el mito de la guerra:
las promesas de honor, o un corazón que ya no late...
Pienso en ese pasillo que estaba justo afuera del gimnasio.
Pienso en esa puerta, por donde entraban los estudiantes.
Justo al lado de la cafetería, donde almorzábamos todos los días.
Donde el ejército tenía su mesa, y regalaban bolígrafos...
Vi esos bolígrafos mucho,



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