And when the locks were snapped and the cages opened
They all looked the same, as to say, they were dying.
While overhead the titillating sound of metal birds,
Mostly black and circling o'er napalm skies, hawking,
'til the word from above yet far and safe from death
spoke the dread that the caged feared they'd hear...
Abort this Rescue Mission, all birds Leave Your Nest,
Survivors will be tended to the moment we own turf
Abort! Abort! I command this Mission 86'd, dissolved,
said the one with the clean helmet of stars, encased-
In one inch glass that covered its mahogany stand...
They say that LBJ never wanted... the Kennedy torch
So evident it was with the return of every young man
Who arrived back home to their mothers, and lovers-
Quietly in a flag draped battleship gray steel box.
FjR-MMXV
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem