This is a variant on an old poem and so possibly a re-post
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love
War Metaphor Guy
Does keyboard-war-guy truly mean that he
Will shoulder rifle, pack, and spares, and range
On blistered, bleeding feet into dead hell,
Obedient to an ill-considered oath
That calls upon his soul to deny itself?
How noble is his war -- upon the screen.
Does he intend to suffer sin-stained years
Of deprivation, lowest-bidder tins
Of surplus slime stored since some previous war,
Of murky water gassed with chemicals,
Of gasping, breathless, sodden, rotting heat?
How easy is his war -- upon the screen.
So does he really want a poor man’s soul
Ripped screaming, sh*tting, bleeding from his life,
Intestines flyblown in the devil’s sun?
Will he be satisfied with an eyeless corpse
Bloat-floating down another Vam Co Tay?
How glorious is his war -- upon the screen.
Now, keyboard war guy, march away, away
And how God wills, dispose the video games.
