Fighting for peace as a family
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just fade away” - Cpl. Cloy
Richards
6 Marines
3 standing tall and proud in the foreground
3 crouching in the foreground
6 Marines posing in Fallujah, supposedly the
“Graveyard of Americans”
6 young, strong men with battle hardened
countenances.
6 marines in great health posing with rifles,
deep in enemy territory
How brave they look, how American.
They can go to any country in the world, kick
ass and take pictures to show
That picture of my buddies and I, is forever in
my mind, yet slightly
changed
Private Perez was killed by a car bomber at a
vehicle check point.
There’s only 5 Marines in the picture now.
Sergeant Silva lost the use of his left leg after a
rocket attack and now is
addicted to painkillers and booze.
There’s only 4 Marines in the picture now.
Lance Corporal Dubois joined the Marines to
help conquer his heroin
addiction. After 3 years clean and sober, he
came home from Iraq a broken
man, and turned back to heroin. He overdosed
two months after we got back
There’s only 3 Marines in the picture now.
Corporal Allen’s stress and emotional problems
got the better of him and he
started beating his wife and children. 2 years
after Iraq he’s in prison,
without a family.
There’s only 2 Marines in the picture now.
Private First Class Anderson got dishonorably
discharged for drug use 5
months after we came home. Rather than turn
to his family for help, he
wanders the streets of southern California,
begging for money, food, work
There’s one Marine left in the picture now, and
it’s me. Am I still alive?
I might be physically breathing, but I’m dying
inside. So really there
aren’t any Marines in that picture and without
those Marines it’s just a
picture of a shattered city in a devastated
country.
Survivor's Guilt
By Corporal Cloy Richards
I stare at this paper and don’t know what to say
I don’t feel right saying “happy memorial day”
I don’t find anything happy in the price you’ve
paid
We’re both just pawns when this game called
war gets played
My body came home but my spirit just stayed
That hot Iraqi day when you were slayed
Watching my back so I could sleep unafraid I
heard the explosion from where I laid
And instantly I watched the skies go grey
I watched my life just float away
How could things go this way
You were my brother in arms and you took my
place
But not like the way that car bomb took your
face
And blew off your limbs
When I think about it my head starts to spin
I get noxious when I think of your family
I want to tell them I truly am sorry
I’m sorry your son died protecting me
This isn’t the way things were meant to be
You see that day your son took my duty
Your brother sacrificed four 4 hours of sleep
So he could go guard a gate for me
Your fiancée took my fate from me
I’m sorry your father took my place for me
I’m sorry I can spend memorial day with my
family
Today should have been a memorial for me
At least then the survivor could have lived guilt-
free
Richards
6 Marines
3 standing tall and proud in the foreground
3 crouching in the foreground
6 Marines posing in Fallujah, supposedly the
“Graveyard of Americans”
6 young, strong men with battle hardened
countenances.
6 marines in great health posing with rifles,
deep in enemy territory
How brave they look, how American.
They can go to any country in the world, kick
ass and take pictures to show
That picture of my buddies and I, is forever in
my mind, yet slightly
changed
Private Perez was killed by a car bomber at a
vehicle check point.
There’s only 5 Marines in the picture now.
Sergeant Silva lost the use of his left leg after a
rocket attack and now is
addicted to painkillers and booze.
There’s only 4 Marines in the picture now.
Lance Corporal Dubois joined the Marines to
help conquer his heroin
addiction. After 3 years clean and sober, he
came home from Iraq a broken
man, and turned back to heroin. He overdosed
two months after we got back
There’s only 3 Marines in the picture now.
Corporal Allen’s stress and emotional problems
got the better of him and he
started beating his wife and children. 2 years
after Iraq he’s in prison,
without a family.
There’s only 2 Marines in the picture now.
Private First Class Anderson got dishonorably
discharged for drug use 5
months after we came home. Rather than turn
to his family for help, he
wanders the streets of southern California,
begging for money, food, work
There’s one Marine left in the picture now, and
it’s me. Am I still alive?
I might be physically breathing, but I’m dying
inside. So really there
aren’t any Marines in that picture and without
those Marines it’s just a
picture of a shattered city in a devastated
country.
Survivor's Guilt
By Corporal Cloy Richards
I stare at this paper and don’t know what to say
I don’t feel right saying “happy memorial day”
I don’t find anything happy in the price you’ve
paid
We’re both just pawns when this game called
war gets played
My body came home but my spirit just stayed
That hot Iraqi day when you were slayed
Watching my back so I could sleep unafraid I
heard the explosion from where I laid
And instantly I watched the skies go grey
I watched my life just float away
How could things go this way
You were my brother in arms and you took my
place
But not like the way that car bomb took your
face
And blew off your limbs
When I think about it my head starts to spin
I get noxious when I think of your family
I want to tell them I truly am sorry
I’m sorry your son died protecting me
This isn’t the way things were meant to be
You see that day your son took my duty
Your brother sacrificed four 4 hours of sleep
So he could go guard a gate for me
Your fiancée took my fate from me
I’m sorry your father took my place for me
I’m sorry I can spend memorial day with my
family
Today should have been a memorial for me
At least then the survivor could have lived guilt-
free
I'm just a veteran
what can I say?
im not a real American
never worked a real job
joined the marines at age seventeen
never even paid taxes
only made minimum wage
a dollar sixty-six an hour
and a lifetime of guilt and a lifetime of rage
to live with the rest of my days
i hope god forgives me for my ways
i only lived to serve
and pay homage and stay true
to the red white and blue
i ain't black but i understand the price that they paid
nah I wasnt given AIDS, raped or made a slave
but I've been kicked to the curb, kicked in the ribs,
and spit in my face
all from a common enemy, what a disgrace
how dare lady liberty shit on our graves
I watch my best friend get blown to pieces
then watch the monkeys on capitol hill throw us
around like feces
goddamn please, i deserve more respect than that
when it rains i can still feel the shrapnel in my back
look at me, I'm the poster boy for insanity
cuz i've killed so many innocent Iraqi's
but how would you feel
you think you could deal
with this pain I call life
I doubt it, you might could try
but end up on the wrong end of a bottle and end up
ending yo life
and then where would you be
you'd be halfway to killing yourself
the same place as me
WHY I FIGHT FOR PEACE
as read on the House Floor
by Cloy Richards USMC
Because I can’t forget no matter how hard I try.
They told us we were taking out advancing Iraqi
forces,
But when we went to check out the bodies
they were nothing but women and children
desperately fleeing their homes because
they wanted to get out of the city
before we attacked in the morning.
Because my little brother, who is my job to protect,
decided to join the California National Guard
to get some money for college and
they promised he wouldn’t go to Iraq.
instead three months after enlisting
he was sent to Iraq for one year.
Since he has been home for the last six months,
he refuses to talk to anyone, he lives by himself.
the only person he associates with is a friend of his,
the one other man out of his squad of thirteen men
who made it home alive.
He called me a few weeks ago for the first time
And told me he’s having nightmares.
I asked what they were about and
He said they’re about picking up the pieces
Of his fellow soldiers after a car bomb hit them.
Because every single one of the Marines I served
with,
the really brave warriors, even when some friends
and people
they looked up to got killed or lost an arm or leg,
they wouldn’t cry, they just kept fighting.
They completed their mission.
Every one of them I have spoken to since we got
home
has broken down crying in front of me,
saying all they can do since they got back
is bounce from job to job, drink and do drugs,
And contemplate suicide to end the pain.
Because I’m tired of drinking, bouncing from job to job
and contemplating suicide to end the pain.
Because every time I see a child,
I think of the thousands I’ve slaughtered.
Because every time I see a young soldier,
I think of the thousands Bush has slaughtered.
Because every time I look in the mirror
I see a casualty of the war.
Because I have a lot of lives I have to make up for,
the lives I have taken and
Because it’s right.
That’s why I fight.
Because of soldiers with wounds you can’t see.
what can I say?
im not a real American
never worked a real job
joined the marines at age seventeen
never even paid taxes
only made minimum wage
a dollar sixty-six an hour
and a lifetime of guilt and a lifetime of rage
to live with the rest of my days
i hope god forgives me for my ways
i only lived to serve
and pay homage and stay true
to the red white and blue
i ain't black but i understand the price that they paid
nah I wasnt given AIDS, raped or made a slave
but I've been kicked to the curb, kicked in the ribs,
and spit in my face
all from a common enemy, what a disgrace
how dare lady liberty shit on our graves
I watch my best friend get blown to pieces
then watch the monkeys on capitol hill throw us
around like feces
goddamn please, i deserve more respect than that
when it rains i can still feel the shrapnel in my back
look at me, I'm the poster boy for insanity
cuz i've killed so many innocent Iraqi's
but how would you feel
you think you could deal
with this pain I call life
I doubt it, you might could try
but end up on the wrong end of a bottle and end up
ending yo life
and then where would you be
you'd be halfway to killing yourself
the same place as me
WHY I FIGHT FOR PEACE
as read on the House Floor
by Cloy Richards USMC
Because I can’t forget no matter how hard I try.
They told us we were taking out advancing Iraqi
forces,
But when we went to check out the bodies
they were nothing but women and children
desperately fleeing their homes because
they wanted to get out of the city
before we attacked in the morning.
Because my little brother, who is my job to protect,
decided to join the California National Guard
to get some money for college and
they promised he wouldn’t go to Iraq.
instead three months after enlisting
he was sent to Iraq for one year.
Since he has been home for the last six months,
he refuses to talk to anyone, he lives by himself.
the only person he associates with is a friend of his,
the one other man out of his squad of thirteen men
who made it home alive.
He called me a few weeks ago for the first time
And told me he’s having nightmares.
I asked what they were about and
He said they’re about picking up the pieces
Of his fellow soldiers after a car bomb hit them.
Because every single one of the Marines I served
with,
the really brave warriors, even when some friends
and people
they looked up to got killed or lost an arm or leg,
they wouldn’t cry, they just kept fighting.
They completed their mission.
Every one of them I have spoken to since we got
home
has broken down crying in front of me,
saying all they can do since they got back
is bounce from job to job, drink and do drugs,
And contemplate suicide to end the pain.
Because I’m tired of drinking, bouncing from job to job
and contemplating suicide to end the pain.
Because every time I see a child,
I think of the thousands I’ve slaughtered.
Because every time I see a young soldier,
I think of the thousands Bush has slaughtered.
Because every time I look in the mirror
I see a casualty of the war.
Because I have a lot of lives I have to make up for,
the lives I have taken and
Because it’s right.
That’s why I fight.
Because of soldiers with wounds you can’t see.