Friday, June 12, 2009
century of claims
arguments galore
what's mine is mine
what's yours is mine
better than you
our blood is pure
like fine wine
your ancestry in question
your peasant lines
god is against you
guiding light
convert by sword
or perish and die
contrived destruction
reason unknown
someone makes money
young men die
for or against us
no middle ground
whatever the reason
will start the war
stir up the blood
in a faraway land
too many bullets
find the mark
letter sent home
our regrets are many
your son has died
a brave solider he
cries of the mother
anguish of dad
coffin is lowered
taps is played
draped flag is folded
triangle in size
gunshots ring in the air
21 in all
a tribute to the fallen
won't be the last
many to follow
always the young
always to young
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