Something I Dug Up

From January 2005. Serendipitously found in my Gmail archives.

old men wait
where young men die
to pick up the pieces
and plot again

another generation
lost to hate
another woman's son
not coming home

and still they plot
the filth of destruction
leave no grave unopened
no tombstone unturned

old men have waited
since the dawn of time
to regain lost youth
bathe in youthful blood

we rebel against
the ways of the past
a millstone round
the future's neck

a hopeful future
untouched by tradition
where age is a state of mind
and philosophy an anachronism

may we never age in spirit
lest we become
old men.

waiting.

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