When Bradley moved back from western Wales His Okie accent still wouldn’t fail Sleeping in his pickup truck, his Soul wouldn’t calm He wrote to his mother, “I’m nobody now, Mom”
It’s hard to imaging why bullies dig But Bradley understood it came with the gig He wanted an education with all his will So he walked in and signed up to get that GI bill
“I want…”
Today, those who got up in Bradley’s face Wish to remain anonymous, in their disgrace They spread rumors around he wet himself scared Even if that’s true, I don’t really care
“Recycled” from Iraq and stationed at Fort Drum His boyfriend introduced him to Triskelion He met the hacktivists at MIT “Randomly hung out with some pikans”; “At last, people like me”
“I want…”
Deployed to Base Hammer, near Iran Built from freight containers and sheer boredom The bullies on the base went in for the kill They said, “We have a saying here: Shit rolls downhill”
On leave in Boston, but his boyfriend had flown Bradley wrote him on Facebook: “I have no real home” And before the Builds launch party, he went on to vent: “Bradley Manning is not a piece of equipment”
“I want…”
While passwords are written on sticky notes And stuck to laptop screens, Bradley explodes Found in a storeroom stabbing a chair Bradley carved, “I want…” with a passion that’s all-too rare
Now he’s due to be court-martialed this December To prove bullying is better than a wild temper Now, when we say “I want”, we invoke his chair Bradley, know you have friends, though you’re locked in there