The Gallant Soldier

These gallant men who lay their lives, Leave orphaned children and widowed wives. From glorious past to frenzied last, A battle so uncalled for, Man’s ego tis which blown with scorn, For each and every neighbour, That causes death from mine or bomb, Not forgetting the bullet and sabre. With all their world of camouflage, A snipers bullet, some sabotage. Although they choose this heroic death, A meager compensation is all they’ll get. Giving us gladly their today’s, So that we may see our morrows, They leave behind a host of kin, Who alone will face their sorrow. When will man stop killing man? And live like only, a good man can. -Prince Freakasso (Painter & poet)