Commissioned to fight
For a monarch's delight
In a war you never did care for.

Seeing men die
And their children cry
For lives that are lost in the trenches.

What is the use
Of all this abuse?
The answer is not within reach.

You fear the insane
The fever of brain
Induced by the horrors you've seen.

What can be done
But watch men be gunned
And pray that you won't be the next?

Author's Notes: Hmm. did I mention I suck at poetry?