Cannon Fodder

They are but pawns,
Shaped for the use of death
For the diet of greed
The evil that breathes,
That weaves,
Between the fabric of politics
Plucking life from the free
Giving innocent blood to trees
To torn allegories
A false representation
Bred by lies, deceit by news,
By television,
Crisp scenes to breed panic
Disorder,
No know order,
As soldiers stampeded
To be
The slaughter
For their political father,
Little thought led by orders,
Closed doors,
Give only opacity
Generate a story,
A reason for youth to bleed,

For,
The boldest
Now be the weakest,
A meager leader
A nation, of cannon fodder.

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Just a man beneath the thumbprint of God. A man wandering like any other, wondering what will come of him.(Instagram @poemjunkybiffle)

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Micah Biffle

Micah Biffle

Just a man beneath the thumbprint of God. A man wandering like any other, wondering what will come of him.(Instagram @poemjunkybiffle)

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