ONE WAY OUT
In this terror of blood-spilling lust,
Why throw it in a ditch,
This boy’s beautiful body,
When his spirit might rise like steam from the soup
And stir the live ones to vengeance?
Disease will deter you?
Ah, but boil it well
And the thought will give it a spice.
Cannibalism, you say?
Why stop when you have gone so far?
He that died
Would rather his body
Gave life to his fellows,
Than be trampled over,
Shot over,
Shoveled like offal away.
Why throw it in a ditch?