Finally I Know Who My Enemy Is...
i am armored
on my hand is the sharpest sword
i am ready for battle
to kill the enemies
your enemies
when i am about to win
and stab the victim
you are there running
towards me
asking that i be forgiving
your enemies are spared
and they all laugh at me
my armor is rusty now
my sword not as sharp as i
once held it
now you have enemies again
asking that i go to battle
who are you? i am not stupid anymore.
Use other mercenaries
and if there is now
Go, fight yourself, and have yourself killed
so i can offer you flowers
for the dead
so i can for once rest and smile
and tell myself
i am free and i work for no one anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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