Where the poppies grow

 

Blood always flows,

where the poppies grow.

There's always war,

where oil Is found below.

Where a gunshot can bring

money to the tills and make them ring.

 

There is always war,

where gold can be plundered,

where land can be claimed.

Where armies march

like the sound of thunder.

Where a gunshot will bring a profit

rocket to the stock market.

 

Where the poppies grow,

war is sure to show.

Walking in with arms aloft,

mowing down fields of men,

so many lost.

A Kalashnikov choir.

M16 Assault rifle fire.

Blood flows the colour of the flowers.

Machine gun spray

gives a grand payday.

Greed and hatred devours.

 

War on terror,

but we funded the rebels.

War on drugs,

but our leaders are the biggest cartel.

There is always war,

but is the enemy within.

Are we rotten to the core?

Soaked in centuries of sin.

 

There is always war,

where the poppies grow.

When the cash registers are running dry,

they will hold their weapons high.

When they need to distract or divide,

weapon grade explosives primed.

There is always war,

but what are we really fighting for?

 

 

Thanks for reading

Peace, Love and Poetry

Kyle.