"How can we allow the tobacco industry to fill its coffers while we the people have to empty our pockets to fend for and suffer all the harms
A Poetry in Motion. Lincoln's Fields. By Byron Kocen.
Come, faithful sun, warm the path even angels never tread. Melt the tears from hard men's minds, the cries of those long dead.
show the path
where soldiers never die.
Dry the tears
from Lincoln's fields
where bones of young men lie.
Hush the clang
of armor's steel
glistening in your light.
Help us all
to save our souls
to tell the wrong from right.
Still the drum
within with hearts
that cry for blood and war.
Pay heed to dove's
serene sweet song
that pleads for war no more.
Come, faithful sun
warm the path
where soldiers never die.
Dry the tears
from Lincoln's fields
where bones of young men lie.
Byron Kocen
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