Mommas Boys-Usa

War, war, war!
Time to even the score!
Bombs, bombs, bombs

Mothers help us kill your sons.
It’s true the leaders 
Never have to run
Well they run for fun.

But your sons
Must Run For Their Life!
In our war game of strife.

Hey momma- 
Don’t complain your son, a boy your child
Sent to war off in distant wild

A great experience
It shall be!
His death is not in vain
But to our country tis a vi!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace