WAR IS HELL -America & Apple Pie-America (A Parody)- Hal O’Leary

Posted: November 11, 2010 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,




In honor of Veteran’s day today, Sick Of ‘Em brings you the poetry of WWII Veteran Hal O’Leary


Hal O’Leary is an 85 year old veteran of WWII. He has concludes that all wars since then have been fought expressly for the military industrial complex that Ike warned us about. He was recently inducted into the Wheeling Hall of Fame for his contribution to the arts and is the recipient of an Honorary Doctor of Humane Letters Degree from West Liberty University.



Yes, war is hell, that’s what they say,
But when it comes, it’s all HOORAY.
The flag of course is on display,
As patriots all kneel and pray
“The enemy must die today.”
But, who is this foe anyway
We send our brave boys out to slay?
“Thou shalt not kill” Commandments say,
But they’re not human. It’s OK.
Beside, they come from far away,
And worship God a different day.
But, who am I to question they
Who do what I did, yet today..
For very much to my dismay,
Back then, I hid my feet of clay
In Viet Nam, I joined the fray.
To fight for good old USA,
But now, for ignorance, I pay.
And here in Arlington they lay
A wreath and rue that fateful day.
I bought the lie of Ton-kin Bay.

Hal O’Leary


America and apple pie,

With these, we’re told we must comply.
Yes, “Ours is not to reason why.”
For GOD AND COUNTRY is the cry.
But please believe, IT’S ALL A LIE.
And I am here to verify
To testify and certify
That wars are fought to satisfy
The greed of those who tell the lie.
The lie that sends us off to die.
And I am here to notify
That it’s the rich who do rely
On war to pile their treasures high.
Without a thought of you and I,
There is no way to justify
This hellish war we glorify.
And, “Ours is but to do and die”.

Hal O’Leary

(A Parody)
My country tis of thee
Sweet land of fascist glee, of thee I sing
Land where our soldiers died,
No matter that we lied,
From round the countryside, let church bells ring.
My native country thee,
Land of the ‘just for me’, it’s we we love.
Can’t think of those it kills
Or how much blood it spills,
War will provide the thrills like that above.
Let hubris swell the breeze,
And sing out, if you please, old profit’s song.
Let foreign bodies quake
In fear of wars we make.
Let there be no mistake, our will is strong.
Our fathers God to thee,
Author of bigotry of thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright,
With capital delight,
Protect our sacred right, Midas our king.



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