Brad Travers Poet I do not know?

This Is My Last Battlefield

This is my last battlefield
I am tired of fighting a hopeless war
Filled with sleeping corpses and nonsensical peasant strides
Feverish Generals who keep shooting down with empty gun barrels
Soldiers who wanton march in the mists and bog of the long forgotten mansion
and inns of the tortured citizens that live without hope but no longer can be seen
I am the last Old Man of this ruin and wreck of a once prospered Nation gone Dead
The arms that I still wear are weary
these eyes which endow me to see does not wish to vision any further
Every step that my feet do walk is ready to fall for a long autumn sleep
Forget the rage that fills every blood in the veins who seek to destroy any sight
or fancy of the rich and privilage of the hierarchy that only seeks Wealth and Fame
NOT ME DEAR SIR AND MADAME..I AM TIRED OF PLAYING YOUR EVIL'S GAME!!!

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James Foulk August 11, 2008 at 12:06 PM yes the rich don't fight, during the civil war the rich bought their way out of the army. a great poem, well said.

Vince Suzadail Jr. August 11, 2008 at 9:06 AM We the common people have always been expendable. Sad but true. The rich don't fight. They count the dead and the money. Vince