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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353760" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Million Young Work Men</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353760" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads,<br>And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red roses.<br>Yes, this million of young workmen slaughtered one another and never saw their red hands.<br>And oh, it would have been a great job of killing and a new and beautiful thing under the sun if the million knew why they hacked and tore each other to death.<br>The kings are grinning, the Kaiser and the czar—they are alive riding in leather-seated motor cars, and they have their women and roses for ease, and they eat fresh-poached eggs for breakfast, new butter on toast, sitting in tall water-tight houses reading the news of war.<br>I dreamed a million ghosts of the young workmen rose in their shirts all soaked in crimson … and yelled:<br>God damn the grinning kings, God damn the kaiser and the czar.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Carl+Sandburg">Carl Sandburg</a></strong></div>

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