Exsanguination Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

America, my promised land,
I see you in a puddle
of blood, you do not understand,
your people sit and huddle.

You turn a blinded eye to all
no matter that they cry.
Another soldier takes the fall
a patriotic guy!

His mother gets an interview,
perhaps some notes in green,
so, Uncle Sam, what's it to you,
are you that cold and mean?

So generous your people are
no equal on this earth,
they worry and they travel far,
meanwhile, another birth

brings joy to all the family
but years will not erase
your strange obsession to be free
as the new Master Race.

I love you all, Americans
and pray to keep you well.
I'd rather you be Larrikins
than send your boys to Hell.