Burn your papers young man!

He slithers across the floor on his belly
Face swollen
Bleeding
The man child
Book of the damned
His soul given
The devil owns the deed
Hello my children
Nice to play with you again
Finding chairs thrown into great Bond fires
Enlisting into some military march of the slaves
One
Two
Three
Leading sheep to the house of slaughter
Whine with the swine
Slashing your throats to drain your Life blood
Placing you in strange lands
To die in their war games
Burn your papers young man!
Exit this place now
Before your uncle of corruption takes you under His burning wing
And your metals shall be placed upon your Lifeless body
When you are shipped home in a crate.

Burn your papers young man!

john blankenburg

Grafton, United States

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Artist's Description

In this poem I try to express my feelings over the war in the middle east, and war in general.

Artwork Comments

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