All the wars

you're alive
thanks to a strange chain of events
that started with the death of elvis
and yes, all the wars and their warriors
wanted a piece of you in your living room.

i'm alive
after a time of riots and rides
that ended with smack of gates into theirs clasps.
all the dates that they throw
at you were somebody else's stab at your lineage.

we're alive
thanks to a light shone in the night
that found an airsip in it's sights.
in the crossfire your grandfather cried to your mother.
all the bombs that avoided you had
somebody else's name scrawled on the clipboard in haste.
it was a clerical mistake.

when you first saw it you were in a stroller,
flailing your arms at the dogs and the bees.
they could have bit you but you looked so happy.
they could have snapped but they showed you mercy.
and come to think of it,
i never once heard, "no."
from the day you were called
you've been walking through the walls.
shot through a canon, you've landed in a flowerbed.
guarded by invisable friends.
guarded and invisable.