Indians, Their Means For War!
This is an old poem that I stumbled across a little while ago. I've been debating putting it up here because I absolutely hate it. I have no idea where it came from..it just flowed out of me when day while I was attending class at PTI all those years ago. I remember watching 'Red Dawn' sometime later that week.
Indians, Their Means for War!
4-12-04
9:03:07AM
And the man said 'Go!'
letting loose the load
of two dozen cylinders
falling to the world below.
Ripping through the atmosphere
screaming towards the ground
all dressed up in war paint
this tribe charges into town
The first one lands
and cheers roar through the men.
The clouds part for a better view
ceasing laughter as horror shines through.
The last one lands now
as they weep for what they've done.
Bombing their own families,
flying too close to the sun.
Missiles arm and fly away
striking earth amongst foreign lands
Cold War missiles initiate
despite their lack of hands.
This plane is the last of it
Only these few souls exist
because of loudspeaking men
and their horrible little toys.
Indians, Their Means for War!
4-12-04
9:03:07AM
And the man said 'Go!'
letting loose the load
of two dozen cylinders
falling to the world below.
Ripping through the atmosphere
screaming towards the ground
all dressed up in war paint
this tribe charges into town
The first one lands
and cheers roar through the men.
The clouds part for a better view
ceasing laughter as horror shines through.
The last one lands now
as they weep for what they've done.
Bombing their own families,
flying too close to the sun.
Missiles arm and fly away
striking earth amongst foreign lands
Cold War missiles initiate
despite their lack of hands.
This plane is the last of it
Only these few souls exist
because of loudspeaking men
and their horrible little toys.