From My Reservation
I will be absent for a few days. His family has requested that I attend his funeral and play the pipes and the harp.
He was in Afghanistan, in the command of a friend of mine. I am devasted. Such a waste. Such a senseless, stupid, fucking waste. If the war ends tomorrow that's one goddamned day to fucking late.
I knew this young man.
Barbara Dickson sings "The Skye Boat Song" which has become a tradition with me. Mainly for the verse that says
I'll sing ye a song of our land which is gone
Gone with the waves gone by
I'll try and write something when I am able to string enough words together before breaking down into cursing these motherfuckers who are killing our children.
For. No. Good. Reason.
Now, please excuse me, I need to go bury another baby.
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