the never-ending American dream of perfection III

O! What hasn’t been done
To ensure that this misbegotten war will be won
But the one overseas, not the one right at home -
Not the one with the secrets covered with stone -
Not the one with misery tied up alone -
Not the one with perfection lost in the poem.

This is the voice of the misguided souls
Of the lost, diseased, mistreated
Of the overeager, standing, seated
Of the confident, the sad, the driven, and the mad
Of the mistaken – most of all
Of those nobody thinks will ever fall
Of those who of course will stay up till the end
Fighting their enemies and protecting their friends
Deciding the victor of the rule over men.
Deciding the voice that history will take
Ten years from now when a bit less is at stake
When perhaps some higher power would know
What needs to stay and what had to go—
What had to change and what wasn’t so
The test of a nation in victories outside?
No – it is at all the failures inside.

The inability of all to see past the pride –
Past years of schooling
Past all the lies –
To the less than perfect student, who honestly tried
To change what he was before forced into disguise.

I think perhaps it's time I changed the rhyme.