On war

How many wars are the settling of scores
nurtured in young hearts
Filled with romance
hormonally charged
and searching for easy answers?

How many wars have as their cause
the greed of the old
who draw up their plans
with cruel ambition
in high-ceilinged rooms?

Here are my words to the young:

Don’t be fooled by old men’s words
Their promises and the stories they tell
They are looking for volunteers
like you to bear their arms
to the top of the hill

And when you finally plant their flag
they’ll empty your pockets
and have you whipped
for asking
Where’s the reward?

Your reward, my friend,
is in hell