POEM: Waging War on War – and Losing

Just yesterday I was so fired-up,

So full of life, enthusiasm, passion.

I was gonna go Rambo and slaughter some baddies, become a goodie in the eyes of all.

Either that or die trying but hey!

Either way I’m glorious baby!

Whether or not I’m victorious.




I was ready, I was pumped to shoot some Commies who dared to criticise the corruption in our capitalism,

Or Taliban who dared to want to be ruled by their own Muzlamic laws,

Or Falkland Islanders who dared to defend themselves against our invasion of their lands,

Or Mau Mau rebels who dared to resist our 2nd scramble for Africa,

Or paramilitary rebels in some foreign land somewhere who have nothing to do with us whatsoever.





Today I’m so fired-up but in a different way,

Pumped full of death, exhaustion, pain.



Now I’m slaughtered like a baddie by the goodies who turned Rambo on me.

Because I chose to turn coat,

To see the humanity in my fellow enemies and the animality in my fellow allies,

I became the black sheep of the herd because I chose to evolve past the sheep mentality.

What’s it called now? “Conscientious objector.”

Back then it was simply called “Treacherous coward!”

That’s what the Colonel barked as his herd dragged me to the wall,

Rifles already at the ready before I can raise my tongue to protest…

Bang! 1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4!

Bang! 5 shot, 6 shot, 7 shot, more!

Bang! Lost count! Shots all sound like one!

Bang! Falling down, hit the ground, bang!

I’m done. 





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