Looking for meaning in the mounting toll of war

In this grim war
a hundred score
have come back in a box.
And still they die
while some ask “why?”
“Is Bush’s brain but rocks?”

Two thousand troops
in funeral suits
with eyes forever closed.
Some say they died
for one man’s pride.
Perhaps. But just suppose

they shed their blood
in Baghdad’s mud
for those who nightly dream
of freedom’s prize
and joyful sighs.
Do you know what I mean?

Although the toll
deflates my soul
and renders me so sad,
I still am for
this horrid war
that aims to curb the bad.

Iraqis need
(aren’t we agreed?)
the chance to fend off terror.
They want our aid.
They’re glad we’ve stayed.
Of course they want us there.