A mother's anguish turns to ire,

Her liquid tears to spears of fire,

A useful fool for the liberal Left,

All hatred now, no more bereft.

The honor which her son embraced,

Is now dishonored, now disgraced,

As his mother stands atop his grave,

From there to shriek, from there to rave.

Yes, some are maddened in their grief,

And grief can surely change belief;

But this woman's views, her family say,

Have long been held, long fore today,

Enabling Leftists to use her grieving,

For Moore deception, Moore deceiving.

I see this mother as a willing fool,

A useful Moorish Code Pinko tool.

As one who fought in another place,

I sorrow for this boy's disgrace,

By a zealot mother grafting grief

Stealing his brave deeds, an honor thief,

Usurping his valor to claim her share,

Five minutes of fame in Media's glare.

Her platform one you don't see often:

A dishonored, flag—draped, soldier's coffin.

I can hear Michael Moore muttering under his breath,

'Yeah, this was really a useful death.'

Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65—66