I am not a protester

For Bradley Manning

I am not a Welshman, an American

or a Catholic. I don’t mind eating

burgers but I won’t wear dungarees.

I have no tattoos and I don’t hug

trees. I’ve one pair of Doc Martens

to my name but I never Occupy banks.

I carry credit cards not membership

cards. I don’t read the Morning Star.

When I march, I carry no placard,

it’s because I am late. I don’t go out

in perpetual search of wrongs to right.

I like it when the trains run on time.

I am not an apologist for terror,

or for WikiLeaks. I take issue with those

who assume the innocence of all Brits

abroad. I’ve no burning desire

to be martyred and feel no remorse

for that. I weigh my vote with care.

This is not an appeal for clemency,

for Amnesty. I’m not Private Manning’s

attorney, his guardian angel,

his mouthpiece, his stooge, or his mother.

But I want — no, I insist —

that a young man sent to a faraway land

in my name, shall be given no command

to befoul his own humanity or the dignity

of another; that the prosecution of our wars

shall be principled and our soldiers keen

of conscience; and if it be so,

then this alone: that justice prevail.

(c) 2013 Slush Poet