Ann Foster Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

Heroes Undone

Heroes Undone

We train men up to go to war. 
We train them to fight and kill,
the enemy. 
The people…
in foreign and domestic lands, 
that have no honor, 
and care not for law. 

We tell you to shoot, 
and maim and knife, 
yet when you return, 
home…

Some cry that you are changed, 
somehow by your actions. 
That you are less than citizens, 
and even those without I.D.s
planted here by people 
that have sold themselves 
early to the demons
on the block, 
receive a greater due. 

God is the judge of all things. 
He is the one that matters. 
Heavens gates are open wide, 
for soldiers
that protect 
and serve, 
the weak, 
the defenseless, 
and those 
thought without 
value at all. 

Homage is paid, 
for your sacrifice. 
The kindest men and women, 
the harshest jobs, 
the longest hours, 
the thankless parades

of “people”; 
(people: for lack of further description, 
prior to my morning coffee)

of do-littler(s), 
instead of do-gooder(s), 

or even 
do-er(s) at all.

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