flanders fields in poetry

The left sells you war as freeing the oppressed
the right sells you war as killing heathens
but the outcomes and the profits are always the same.
If we weren’t spending trillions on pointless quagmire wars,
we could’ve fixed that train line and avoided that crash.
But that wouldn’t fulfill the rules of the game.

In my dream last night,
they wanted land to prove that they were powerful,
they wanted power to prove that they were important,
they wanted to be important to prove that they were holy,
they wanted to be holy so they could prove they were immortal
and in their quest for land to start it off,
they killed everyone including themselves.

In my dream last night,
the whole world died because
a few crazy jerks wanted to prove that they couldn’t.
But they did and we all did.
Earth cracked at the middle like an atom
and exploded while a few of us were still
trying to share because we loved each other,
we wanted to love with nothing to prove at all.
All in all, I hate sleeping.

All in all, I’m sick to death of war,
even on a Memorial Day.
Because we’ve got to remember:
the best way to honor the fallen in war
is to make sure we don’t have anymore.
Don’t start ones we don’t need
and there won’t be no dead
if the power of killing
doesn’t go to our heads.