Waiting For the Harvest

Although I'm childless by own hand That's no crime as I understand But parenthood I might restrict? This world's not one that I'd inflict Upon another soul by choice So, in this cause, I raise my voice. I do not judge the ones that do But wish that more would think it through! A boy's just toy to those in charge, A tool for war until discharge Of duty, all but smart must face, Although for cripple no disgrace. Boys taught all feelings to suppress, That death by war should not depress, For to the victors go the curls Of otherwise complicit girls. A girl too's chattel to the hoards Of fools who rule conscription boards, Her privileged status meant to lure Acceptance of forced life demure! Her payoff's choice among the rank Of men untrained to feel or think. Bereft, accepts the lot of moms (Who build earth's population bombs.) Where's freedom of democracy, When population's blind, can't see? Is there new hope when women serve, Experience what men deserve? To earn the salary of men, Be president, but without sin? I do not hold my breath and yet What if more lived life with no net Of children born to soften fall In our old age! Would that forestall The privilege we seek to gain Though at the cost of other's pain? No child is born who asks for life! And parenthood can foster strife You did not dream of, or foretell, (The plans of man don't all end well!): Loss factored in if you are wise And plan in fact to improvise! Just know that rain won't always serve A ripened field or sun preserve A field that's dry, bereft of rain, All life, in fact, foreshadows pain. Though rain will come, a poem rhyme God still decides when it is time, No farmer's labor, love can save, What lightning burns, we're weather's slave. Best scorn our pride and value mirth, Our future's tied to Mother Earth! Long Tooth August 1, 2018