The younger years well spent in class,
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attendant to each teacher's drone.
Each dogma growls as strangers pass,
and bites the air in its morass,
the ends, as such, are still unknown.
Fueled and incensed by hate and spite,
choice morsels from each liar's hand,
feed hungry mouths whose angers bite,
devouring everything in sight.
Destruction's plate fills each demand.
The only peace one can partake,
for freedom's sake, for once and all,
unshattered faith no bomb can shake,
entrenched in hope, for what's at stake
depends on who will rise or fall.
Our allies were once enemies,
so history records this fact.
Friends here at home and overseas,
few tables turn in small degrees,
but strength of arms keep most intact.
A policy won't raise a child,
to read or write, to sing or laugh.
A tyrant can't be reconciled
when all his gods have been defiled.
What losers write the epitaph?
Destruction's plate fills each demand,
be careful then, what you desire.
A flood of good intentions canned
as terror falls from towers spanned
and innocence dies under fire.