Jimmeh (born_stubborn) wrote,
Jimmeh
born_stubborn

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Support our troops with more than yellow ribbons and lip service.

There's more to supporting the troops than putting a bumper sticker on your car, folks. We are not doing enough for our vets. Check it:

"It's easy for someone to buy a bumper-sticker to proclaim that we should "Support Our Troops." The reality of current government policies is far less than ideal, however. Budget cuts for VA mental health and substance abuse programs, which date back to the Clinton Administration, should be reversed."


Sadly, for most Americans, support for the troops ends once they return from the war. There is no excuse for that. We should be doing everything we can for these guys, not only through political activism, but also private donation to organizations such as U.S. Vets that get veterans the housing, mental health treatment, and substance abuse treatment they deserve. Too many of these guys are coming home either physically, mentally, or emotionally maimed from the rigors of close combat. They deserve nothing less than the best we can offer them.

Put your money where your mouth is and pitch in, gang! Happy Veteran's Day!


"A Murder Of Memories," by Eyedea and Abilities
Sometimes gunfire's brighter than the sunshine
Sometimes a child's scream influences every dream
Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinkin' we've moved on
But no way, no how, do we ever forget what we've seen

No way, no how, do we ever forget what we've seen
No way, no how, do we ever forget what we've seen
No way, no how, do we ever forget what we've seen
No way, no how, do we ever forget what we've seen

It's now twenty-five years later, he's on the brink of fourty-three
Still searchin' for sanity, surveyin' the floor of his distorted sea
He remembers high-school friends jokin' about the war
Never knew what Mom was cryin' for

The other piece that shines in his mind
Is the divine first-love soul-mate beauty brown-eyed queen he left behind
He remembers holdin' her tight, watchin' the sunset at shore
Never knew what she was cryin' for

He got the letter in his mail by the middle of his summer
Wouldn't have had to go if it wasn't for his new born brother
He was barely eighteen, murdering people even younger
And he still ducks and covers every time he hears the thunder

He still hears the screams, smells the flesh, tastes the death
Sees the blood, feels the pain What's to gain?
Nothing's left but the slug that remains in his right calf
The bullet laughs every time he cries, and it drives him mad

Trying to sleep, but the visions give him a cold sweat
The war's been over for two decades, but he still hasn't been home yet
Everyday he wakes and strains to repress his guilt
And forget the horror, the violence, the kill-or-be-killed

Fists are always clenched, teeth are always grindin'
Real life is lost, and in a bottle he tries to find it
"It's not fair", he mumbles through a nightmare
Only in the fight for two years, and wound up spendin' his whole life there

He was face to face with the devil for the "welfare" of his country
Now he's strainin' to live, but his conscience won't let him
It ain't flashbacks, you have to understand the tragedy, see
He left the war, but the war never left him, see
He left the war, but the war never left him, see
He left the war, but the war never left him, see
He left the war, but the war never left him, see
He left the war
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