A Righteous Duty Poem by Matthew Holloway

The blood of the good and the innocent
Those who stood for family and friend
Those who looked, striven to provide
All that which the state would happily take
Those whose life and name
Is taken etched upon stone epitaphs
And whose blood washes the hands
Of the politicians and profit merchants
Of the dammed regime we all live in
The governments of varying names
Capitalist and communist
Both see the elite stand tall
Above the soil and dirt of working man
That soil in which will be buried
The bones of the same working man
The mills which grind the grain
To feed the soldier also feeds its owner
With wealth and power ever growing
In the shadows of tombstones
A flag half mast resigns
The fate of a nations hope
The greed of the powerful and mighty
Calls death but a righteous duty