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Thousands of guardians play in the sand,
Knowing not do they of the impending death,
But only of honor and glory to the victor,
Fighting for family, fighting for love,

They are as sacrificial lambs, presented to the politician,
He says they will do their duty, that their country thanks them,
As many in that rank have, and will, the two face man lies,
With service and a smile, through his pearly whites flowed mistruths,
Rifles, planes, tanks, grenades, and people traverse the sea,
Awaiting the faithful day when a kill is theirs,
Then, and only then, will they come home,
With the color red stained in their mind
©2007-2010 ~FlawsMakeYouHuman
:iconflawsmakeyouhuman:

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non-rhyming poem

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:iconobale:
"They are as sacrificial lambs, presented to the politician"

They are... and its so freaking sick. Makes me want to riot.
:iconflawsmakeyouhuman:
freedom of speech has been limited to silent protests on the internet that not many will see, and thats the worst part.

--
"The mystery of life isn't a problem to solve, but a reality to experience."-Frank Herbert

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September 6, 2007
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