Are We
Forever Doomed?

Presenting a choice work
By Rudyard Kipling

Note This,
The poem is a picture
to be set in an 8X10

Congress has not declared a single war since 1947.  Our drafted troops that die on foreign soil have died like men -- But they died for the United Nations that loves not God, nor his kin.

War is violence come uncapped;
The winners are always few.
"Up and over boys," on the orders flew.
"Up and over boys," as the guns begin to spew.

War Must Have Its Fatal Laugh
And braided officers upbraid the brave
"Go dig us offsirs a hole, me boys.
Wish we had enough time for yours."

You can call them heroes, son
and decorate them servers with
bright tin badges of shiny sin
"Served in drenching rain and burnen sun."

But when the war drum tats its last ringing roll
If your boy doesn't come trotting home again,
Then the victries of war unfold;
Death haf took its mouldering tole.

Purely worse were the craving vices
hid by those handy on the guiding reigns.
"I tell you it was a glorious fight you fit,
march, ye heathen, MARCH!
Ignore your bloody pains."

O, we're fighting for DeeMockracy
"Don't," says I, "Go," says you.
History says Noah opened up the Ark
and off the dovey flew.

BirdBrain?  Maybe so, but,
drafted to a duty flore,
The little dove is gone
and comes it back no more.
The wurld is now safe for men once more.

Lin Stone

The End