Sunday, July 27, 2014

"The War of the Rich Man" (poem)

They went to war in tuxedos,
with grenades and silver spoons,
and every day the combat
would take a break at noon.

Servers brought their rations
prepared just so, as they wished.
The fact of global combat
should not compromise their dish.

They'd hurl their vilest insults
and then sit a while to rest.
War is hell for a rich man
it demands his very best.

In time they came to protest,
this war is much too hard.
We've used so many insults
but they never went that far.

We need to find more power,
we need an engine for the win.
They beseeched their loving Lord
and he gave them just one pin.

God said he who is worthy of conquest
can climb through the head of that pin
but all of you are rich men,
and none of you are thin.

They cried, how can we win this battle.
The Lord said, you lost it when you came.
They wept with their piles of money
but their lucre never felt the same.

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