Dear Boy
There is no newness to the child's worldNo startling moment when a minute might
Engulf him.
When a moment of whimsy might make him
Stronger as he bets on fathoms and fools
And all the perceived dead horses.
What do I say?
Dear boy trust your government?
As a child I may have but not today.
I tell my old child to run far away
From the men who want to use him
To fodder their oily cannons.
Not my son for your benefit you bastards.
Not my skin and bones
Whilst you guard your own
Worthless hides...
Send your own bones to fight.
Then I might believe in your war.
Just a minute though...
It's not only a war you are after is it?
You just want the world to continue
As it did before...
Always to your advantage...
Always to your advantage.
Blind to flogging a dead horse.
Dear boy...
Don't go near where they say you must.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2009-09-23 at 01:51
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