Soldiers don’t cry

That’s what the Colonel said to us

We’re men, and men ain’t supposed to cry

But I don’t know.

Sometimes, when I see the desolation,

The dead, the blood, and gore

I really do feel like crying

Even though I am a real man,

And real men don’t cry

Or, at least, that’s what the Colonel says

Yesterday we fought the battle of our lives

Shiloh was a bloody one

A friend of mine, knocked flat onto the ground

He had been right in front of me

If he hadn’t been, I would be dead

Instead, I lived and for what?

Why was I so special?

What makes us survivors so unique?

Today may have been worse than yesterday.

Even though so many died then, so many of us

Are left to feel guilty, unworthy of this precious gift,

This gift of life

Yesterday, they were alive.

They spoke and smiled and breathed

And some of them, some of us,

We cried.

Now they’re gone.

Just like that.

Just a declaration from one man to another,

And a war is fueled.

A war between our own brothers.

A tear doesn’t stop a bullet

Apologies don’t stop a burning hatred

Man doesn’t stop a war,

Without paying the price