i like poems, you do too. will you read mine?

This ragdoll is made of cowardice within.

Her stitching strikes fear among men.

With armies on hand, our defenses spread thin.

Her story is heard now and then.

Men’s true fear is the magic she commands.

She has visions of an accurate yearning.

Though fear spreads throughout; our army still stands.

We become stronger through tactics we’re learning.

A dual to death will consume the field underneath.

The placid sky above knows not our intention.

An army of thousands drew their swords from the sheath.

“Orders from leader!” Battle cries snap the tension.

Step after step, their armor rattles like thunder.

Without fear my battalion patiently assesses.

Strategy shows that we can’t afford to blunder.

Our society refuses to clean up our messes.

Crimson soaked sod dotted with corpses;

Lay monument to all we fought to save.

Our survivors ride back on horses.

To recruit and rest before the next wave.

The darkest army of all fell before us today.

We protected something worth more than their cause.

The battle over, with war quickly headed our way.

Serving our cause, we will fight without pause.

The love we have for ourselves and our kind,

Will keep our feet firmly planted; and our hearts free of fear.

This tale of strength will not be left behind.

Songs will be sung in honor of this date for all to hear

-Willeeum McIntosh-