The Veteran lay dying on the filthy Washington DC street-
As the Veterans Administration Administrator walked around his feet-
The VA bureaucrat looked at at the “bum” with self-righteous distaste-
Wishing these Street people would learn their place-
Why they had to be here to clutter up the exhilarating sight-
Of the war memorials to Veterans past, a reminder of the might-
Of the military whip which keeps the world in line-
With whatever WASHINGTON DC/USA happens to have has on it’s mind-
The Veteran called please, oh please help me mister-
Could you please place a call to my baby sister-
I am so ill, sick, weak and alone-
i wish she could come and take me home-
To die in peace in the Land i thought i fought to to save-
Just so i would be not homeless before the cold of the grave-
i tried to get help from here and there from the VA-
But they always said no proof, and turned me away-
It is so sad and hard to die here, cold and all alone-
i wonder if anyone will miss me, or even know i am gone-
They cheered me loudly, as i marched off to that war-
Now they look at me with disgust, and try to stay far-
From the vessel made with their own collaborating, willing hand-
A homeless outcast on the streets, of my own Home Land-
The VA minion pretended not to hear-
The veterans words going in one, and out the other ear-
As the sold out treasonous political trash hurried past-
The tortured warrior, a Son of America, breathed his last-
To each will come from the Light their lives bill due to pay-
i would not want to be a WASHINGTON DC political whore on that day!
The Ole Dog!
