It was not all you could have done
when it came to what you were born to do,
though some were wondering where you went.
Not once you took your post and led again.
Go low, your so-called sentinels said
as you gently nodded your delicate head,
That’s what our threat has done because of us.
Go low, our own count must,
you sighed with friends and foes alike,
within the too-thin iron walls
whose fractures were really starting to show.
They let far too many in here.
GO LOW, cried the crackle in your ear
the instant you knew you were right
the instant your vision blurred
the instant the shrapnel stirred
the instant the hungry beast
that those billboards love to tell us you all ride
no longer so much as purred.
What was the last thing you heard?
GO LOW GO LOW GO LOW.
Not that fitting,
considering where you were headed.