adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, September 04, 2013

Prophets, a poem


The Prophets of Profits have spoken —
war must surely come!
All wishes for peace were but token;
now we’re beating the drum.

The lives of a few (or of many)
do not count when we sum;
No, to us they’re not worth one penny
and soon we all will be numb.

The Prophets of Profits have spoken
(would that they were struck dumb) —
we must break what’s already broken;
war must surely come!

Stephen Brooke ©2013

Dashed off in a few minutes, as bits of social commentary are wont to be

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