A Young Man’s Game

A young man’s game;
flexing muscles,
oiling engines,
gun barrel proud.

Lungs at capacity,
heart on maximum,
legs at full stretch,
manhood proven.

No pain, no gain,
you can do it,
come on mate,
just go for it.

all together now.

The first kill,
bloodied, shaken,
hurt inside.

Hide the tears.
Don’t look, don’t let them see.
Get the bastards,
make ‘em pay.

Limbless, bitter, pitied.
Prosthetically enlightened.
Game over.
A man, my son.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *