Masking War Poem by Arno Le Roux

Masking War

Marching through fire was of them asked,
Statesmen unknown who all wore a mask,

Hungry and tired and bleeding they may,
Statesmen today would then get their way,

Staring at battle and fighting and mess,
To this soldiers' leaders it's merely but chess,

Losing an eye or a hand or an limb,
Worst case scenario the leaders would swim,

Back from the battle with only one boot,
Their leaders now a small bill to foot,

Fixing more crosses on the green lawn,
Sadly the chess board loses a pawn,

So few alive would get their reward,
A medal a ribbon makes them hard fought,

The statesmen again would stand tall and speak,
Forgetting the young men, who went to sneak?

Money and voting and cheating their game,
Leaders will cross floors forgetting the name,

The name of a soldier giving up all,
So your vote again can make some stand tall,

These are the rules then if you go fight,
Running and rifles would go on all night,

Back home are the leaders' chessing till dawn,
For medals and ribbons rewarding the pawn,

Sooner the Reaper will come to take,
All who sent sons for money to make,

The Reaper will sharpen and sharpen his blade,
For those who sent young men for money was made,

Mining and warring is funding the need,
The living as always is ready to feed,

Arno Le Roux 2014