I need to know like all brave Americans
By Fr. Labib Kobti

Dec. 1, 2005

I am an American like all Americans.

I love my country like all who love.
I serve this, my country, like all Americans.
Like all Americans who dare to speak out,
I ask always their same question.
They do not say it loudly: for fear,
Or for reverence, or for other motives.

I need like all Americans who love,
An answer, a real answer, an honest answer.
Is it true that all my fellow Americans,
Who died in Iraq, in Afghanistan,
For others than America ...
Somewhere away from our dear country,
Somewhere away from their familes,
Parents, wives and children,
Did they really die for America?
Or did they die for something else?

I need to know, like all brave Americans.

I am a friend of them, there in the battle with them,
I saw them dying away from America.
I have been the Pilot of the military plane,
I brought lifeless braves soldiers home to America.
I have been receiving the bodies of many Americans,
Assigned to call their parents or families,
And to tell them about the brave death of one of theirs.
I have been the one who made their graves in America,
Hearing the goodbye music and the screams of theirs families,
Crying with everybody who cried for young people,
That I had to bury in the ground of America.
We had watered with our tears the flowers of their graves.

I need to know, like all brave Americans
Why the brave die, and why the brave kill?
Why the brave destroy lives, and they destroy theirs?
Why they bomb houses and make refugees here and there?
Why violence is the only answer to violence?
Why we have to go away from America,
Build a kind of coalition and call to free others?
Why  freedom should be build with blood?
Why democracy should be build with many killings?
Why calling for peace should be first a call to war?
Why friendship should die when I loose a friend?
Why my future  should die when I loose a husband?
Why my days become nights when I loose a girl friend?
Why my tears do not stop for years when I lose a son?
Why I become fatherless and why I become addicted?
And do others feel like me, many times hopeless?
Do they weep the people that America had killed?
Do they scream when we bomb their houses?
Do they hunger and thirst when they become refugees?
I need to know, like all brave Americans.
Why we are supposed to do all that to others?
Why we are supposed to do that for us, Americans?

Why should I die for Israelis or Iraqis or for Afghans?
Why I die every time they die?
And why America die in me when I kill?

I need to know, like all brave Americans.

When wars will stop and our braves will return?
When I can love like any other people?
When I can have feasts and dance for good?
When America will stop looking outside?
When I will feel that inside I should be the brave?
When outside will take care of itself.
And when, before I free others, I will be free from others?
When peace will be the law of my country?
I need to know, like all brave Americans.