The Enemy Poem by George otto Becker

Upon the fields of battle in which we bled,
The countless men whose lives were shed.
So you could smile,
And your family fed.
Your public speeches you used us,
Claiming your victory your presidency was a must,
Election coming you stole us.
Taking the credit for the men we killed,
As long as you remain on the hill.
Giving us things we don't need,
and filling your pockets as our soldiers bleed.
Claiming yourself a patriot was you,
As we died so black and blue.
You claimed yourself red white and blue.
You spoke of the families you had sympathy,
Like you were a god for everyone to see.
In the end you are the enemy.