The Conscript
He nearly always switched channels
When it was time for the news,
Decidedly unaffected
By the war they must not lose.
After all there’s beer and fashion
For a lad not yet a man,
Girls, and video games to play,
A future without a plan,
A course for him to be chosen;
It’s enough to be alive,
Not thinking of tomorrow; then
The call up papers arrive.
A few weeks initial training,
Swapping fashion for fatigues,
While men in braid and business suits
Pursue self-serving intrigues.
The front line must push on forwards,
So the lad is quickly led
To the heroic offensive
And yet still a lad, is dead.
D. A.