Sustain

Protest songs, ill-defined

implying cadences uttered by the swaying and swelling

of angry crowds shouted till cords are raw,

screaming a desire for

sudden change

at all costs.

Guitars were picked and harmonica blown

to massage messages into the minds

of those that turned a deaf ear

when the issues were forced.

Banjoes and tambourines,

mandolins and steel guitars,

silenced by a black listing

when lyrics delved too deeply-

Un-American to question another man's

misguided crusade;

Un-American

to admit defeat.

Three voices of change

cast away into a void of thick air

pure, country music, questioned

for being against the murder of innocent

and the recall of loved ones-

Un-American

to come home.

A single tear brought on by an echoing chord

a flash of resent from a nerve strummed

and the hardest men given away

as their feet began to tap

A suggestion is put forward

a nudge in the right direction, to

please look up, into the burning sky

at the hard rain looming

Truths only noticed by the ones looking;

wars that cannot be won,

marches that need to be ended.

We will bring them home,

we will further question our readiness to fight

another mans war.

We will stand with eyes closed,

listening in the pouring rain,

for answers-

blowing in the wind.