Silence Condones McEmpire's Drones
by Armadillo

As McEmpire's
Dollar menu
Serves up fast kill.
We pay the bill.
Spent uran'um? -
Small watts; big ill.
To store, or sell?
Makes heavy shell.
Blasts through walls well.
Recycled hell.
Deployed now, swell.

The order's passed
Flash fry their ass.
Such menu class-
Crispy critters!
Some sauce? Must ask.
Breathe toxic gas.
Eat here? To go?
Death swift, then slow.

Too late to know
the drift; winds blow
a toxic flow
through lungs, bestows
the silent blow
to genes; there sown
such seeds of woe.
Fallujans know

As profits grow,
Health defects show.
Yet who will know
how was bestowed
this plague of glow?
With press in tow;
Truth's shaft - sans bow.
As Vets soon go
Six feet below -
More graves to mow.
Their health care dough
Becomes ZERO!

Life's value: Low.
We watch the show;
Caught in the flow.
When few say: NO!
To war we go,
The status quo
Lets madness grow.
A shadow foe
Still strikes their blow.
We've sunk so low.
We make no row.
No threat we pose
To leaders, those
Who send the drones
that bomb the homes
In target zones.
Crushed family moans.
While killer clones
Just count the bones.
Silence Condones!

Copyright © 2011 - Armadillo
Published: 3/3/11   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem