Thursday, August 20, 2009

Poem

Men will become soldiers,
we will fill them up them up with rage
and send them out to fill our papers
with news of their victories and losses.

We will adore them, hate them
twist them away from the boys they were
and fashion from shell that is left
a killer, with a better name.

They will bleed for us and we
will bear their bodies home
to tearstained mothers and lovers
wrapped in the flag that broke them.

Men will become soldiers
until broken, crying in the night
they find they cannot bear to fight.
we will not dare to ask it of them

Then our soldiers can again be men.

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