Cassandra

You spat at my mouth, and I wept sorely at our parting;
Would you speak to me now, Brother--you who denied me thrice?

Have you learned what you needed to know
little soldier boy, little soldier boy?
Your white picket fence
and your lack of horse sense,
and Johnny came marching home.

You took up again your sword, and I prophesied the dragon;
Would you laugh at me now, Brother--you who are raked by it's claws?

Have you reaped what you wanted to sow

little soldier boy, little soldier boy?

Flinging bullets like seeds,

bearing scars from your deeds

when Johnny came marching home.

*  *  *  *  *

You are no Apollo.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

So many hidden meanings in the poem. I like the flow and the story in the poem. Sometime we must learn the hard way. A poem with a purpose.
Coyote