Sure… there is a way out
There’s also the occasional truth
Of course, lies can be made to fly a longer distance
And have the sheen of certainty
They do not have the smiling faces
Of children with hope of a future
They do not carry supplies to the offended
And they cannot be made to reflect
The dream of every ferocious wolf
Is a world gone mad with sheep
And, inevitably, it ends with everyone soaked in red
Frothing from the cup of empire
Sure… there’s a way out
When war’s the only thing you know
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
