Someone asked me to write a poem on the topic War. I figured it was about time a menacing word like that was given a seemly image. Here goes…

A good, ole, weary man

From the North was asked

‘What happened to ya self?’

He sat and answered

‘It was a mess

One could only guess

There was a terrible feud

Deadly, delicious and good,’

The merchants gasped

but urged him on

‘Tasty red liquid splattered from goners

Yummy dead flesh flew from corners’

The merchants shook

But urged him on

‘Deep cries tortured the gruesome air

Men ululated to their successful fair,’

The merchants feared

But urged him on

‘Their aims were pretty obvious and not forlorn

Crushing their opponents to the bone,’

Brave and bold, a merchant asked

‘How many kicked the bucket?’

The good ole man laughed and said

‘No man died fellas,

It was just a food war

Nothing more,’