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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581035" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Two Fifties and a Tomato Cart</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Two.50 calibre rounds destroyed the old man's head<br>there was nothing left in the space<br>where once eyes, nose, mouth had lived<br>his face was shredded <br>The tomato cart untouched because<br>Americans fire tight shot groups<br>and they were directed at his head<br>The female MP surveyed the horror<br>with cool distaste posed the question<br>'cause of death? ' It was procedure.<br>An Army private could not resist delivering<br>his line with a wry twist of gallows humor<br>'Seems to me, seargeant, loss of head <br>would be the cause of death.'<br>Hearing this story now, second hand, <br>I am unable to make any sense of it.<br>I fail to grasp the value of it's telling<br>The facts are clear-<br>American convoy drew near<br>the old man and his tomato cart<br>two fifties opened up and took his head apart<br>head controls heart thus, life functions ceased<br>threat eliminated the American convoy eased <br>to a stop- <br>and the paperwork started with clinical indifference<br>to the recently departed tomato cart man<br>I feel nothing<br>I am unable to engage emotions though I guess<br>Somewhere, someone will be lost in an ocean of grief<br>that will bear no consolation-<br>no amount of belief in God, Allah, Jahweh<br>can begin to explain the immensity of their loss <br>as I attempt to calculate the cost to the Army as roughly-<br>nothing, <br>the empty feeling inside of me as<br>I try to tell myself I'm not dead-<br>try to sell myself on the idea that somewhere-deep inside<br>I'm aghast at the cheapness of life in the combat zone<br>where everybody dies alone and I know<br>each loss is a personal tragedy to someone back home<br>a catastrophy to mothers like Cindy Sheehan.<br>But what about the tomato cart man, his head squashed<br>like a ripe tomato by the twin hammers <br>of two fifties? <br>How much does his death really affect me? <br>It hits me then and I want to take the fact<br>and drive it through my own head like <br>those two fifties until <br>my head gives way<br>and my heart stops because<br>it is now clear that the numbness has become so severe<br>that I might as well be dead<br>Cause of death? <br>Not loss of Head<br>Oh no, no<br>I'd say loss of Heart</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Troy+Younts">Troy Younts</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581035" data-title="Two Fifties and a Tomato Cart de Troy Younts" data-description="Two.50 calibre rounds destroyed the old man's head
there was nothing left in the space
where once eyes, nose, mouth had lived
his face was shredded 
The tomato cart untouched because
Americans fire tight shot groups
and they were directed at his h..."></div>
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