At war.

by valentinestavrou

 My flesh is my uniform, keep the flags for those who sleep in’em

don’t you gimme a gun, I’ll be making a spring wreath out of it

and using wooden sticks to make some music.

 

I don’t have weapons, I have tools;

my voice, some smiles, a pencil and lots of dreams,

you know, I’ll ask the enemy if he wants some of my bread,

and if he says “no”, I will let him go.

 

I’ll sing loud enough to cover the sound of bullets taking the lives

of men,and women,and children who asked for no war,

I’ll be dancing with my fellow soldiers, I’ll teach them some

latin moves, and we’ll be mocking you, Sir, for sending us to war, Sir,

so your bank account will grow bigger, Sir.

 

Cause this is not what I asked for, Sir,

and I refuse to embrace death and hatred and violence,

I can only write words, Sir

and I smile, a lot!, Sir,

I cannot destroy what I love, Sir

I’m a woman, I give Life, Sir.

 

At war, I’ll be a horrible soldier, Sir.

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