Tommy (Poetry)

The voice of war came calling in tones corrupt but sweet,
enticing him to follow the eager, marching feet,
so he took the King’s bright shilling, traded in his city suit
for a uniform of khaki and became her loyal recruit.

He believed her propaganda — felt the patriotic words
whipping up his latent passion ’til his sense of duty stirred,
and, grown hungry for some action — a chivalrous display —
the crowd cheered “Bravo Tommy!”and sent him on his way.

But his naive expectations were dashed when brazen war
revealed herself a harlot — a cheap, conniving whore —
who ridiculed his morals, infected firm, young flesh
with an appetite for killing and carnal wantoness.

A bitter rite of passage — a ritual in the dark
of fear’s imagination where bullets find their mark —
that thin red line of heroes who heed the siren’s call,
know Death’s the great seducer and faith can’t save them all.