The Torture Of Yesterday's Voice Poem by gregory collins

The stars of our national flag
under a heavy sky,
blowing the quivering stripes
that are aged too.

It leaves a lonely smile
behind every dream i have,
and i humbly sing small songs for us children
as our parents did
through the door opened for tomorrow.

As even a little knowledge
is rejected by my sad imagination.
Now that my hard working soldier is disappearing
into the trench of my soul for the first time,
to the torture of yesterday's voice;
Not afraid to start a big war out of a small cage.