Chases the ball, kick and run,
My dear child, grown older now
Puts on armor, picks up a gun,
Swears to defend a country,
Fight until the war is won,
My child ends up as worm food,
When all is said and done,
Killed in battle, but why can’t
There be a better way,
To settle quarrels, my poor
Lost child, this Memorial Day...
No comments:
Post a Comment