Brother

 Tell me brother,

do you stare at the bombs

you carelessly throw at us

until they explode?

or do you flinch and turn away

as splashes of

blood

stain the shiny black boots

you spend so long polishing?

Were you scared, brother?

When masses of desperate people yelled

at your face,

protected by a plastic shield,

begging you to stop;

to drop your weapons and

listen, if only for a minute?

Was it one of you, soldier

looking straight into my eyes

as you fired?

Did you hurt as much

I did?

Or did you think, brother,

even for the slightest second,

the orders you followed

were not fair?

Did you brother?

Tell me what you like

about your job? Is it the pride?

Is the honor?

Do you treat your medals

with the same caution we treat our wounds?

What are your ideals, brother?

Please,

I need to understand you.

Tell me,

do you wake up

to the smell of pouring coffee?

Do you wish you could add more milk or sugar

like I do?

Or do you put on your uniform,

while you’re still half asleep and

go to work with an empty stomach?

Tell me brother,

do you smile at babies as you walk

through the streets or

play with puppies that lick your

stained boots?

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