Brothers and Sons and Us
As much as I have been bothered
At the prospect my brothers would have to go and fight
A war on a foreign soil
That they did not cause
It bothers me more
To think of my sons
Dying on that same battlefield
But worst of all
I saved the fear
For myself
Dying
Over all that nothing.
The cannons sound loudest,
I imagine,
In your own ears
And the blood the reddest.
At the prospect my brothers would have to go and fight
A war on a foreign soil
That they did not cause
It bothers me more
To think of my sons
Dying on that same battlefield
But worst of all
I saved the fear
For myself
Dying
Over all that nothing.
The cannons sound loudest,
I imagine,
In your own ears
And the blood the reddest.
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.