Toy Soldier Poem by BEAU GOLDEN

A silver bayonette in one hand
A bottle of whiskey in the other
Bright round green eyes
Dark thick brow light mustache wise

Pompous and strutting in uniform delight
Marching to our own tune every night
Red pants black boots and gold buttons alight
Ready at a moments notice to stand and fight

He is a toy soldier and I am too
Looking out from his cast staring at you
He is not real and neither am I
We are both toys so ask not why

There is a crack in his armor plain as day
And cracked is mine too ask not how it got that way
Two toy soldiers marching off to war
Two toy soldiers fighting for a whore

Finally the end the end is come
We are both just deaf and dumb
Two toy soldiers two halves not whole
Both of us have lost our soul

To use the whiskey or the knife?
To bring an end to yours or an end to my life?

Beau Golden