Jonathan Beale- A Poem

War

They’re taught to play the games

Without their real names

Yet with names or without

You can always hear them shout

They echo invisible around every place

With style, charm, and grace

Whimsically dancing

You think there’re enhancing

Yet beneath the skin

You’ll never feel the pierce of the pin

Of the tattoos mythical ink

 Marked out. A sitting duck must sink

And  so ask, “What is, and why?”

Until we meet again. It is goodbye.