Why are we here?
Why do we stay?
I lost my brother
In battle yesterday
Sixteen he was,
Too young for war,
Too young to understand
What's worth fighting for.
And now he is trapped
'Mongst the shrapnell and mud
With other young fools
Sharing their blood.
It's hard to remember
Whose side is whose
When they signed up
Just as naive as you
At the end of the day,
You're just a pawn spent
In some big boardgame
Played by the government
And yet we die
For their choice of acions
Caught up in this conveyer-belt
Killing contraption.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryPoetry from my imagination of what certain times of the past were like (mainly wars). These are not genuine poems from that time.
