More of ecb’s poetry
Tradition
His father said to him-
"You must go.
Your Grandfather did,
As well as your uncle and your father.
You must now lead your brothers."
And so he went.
He saw gruesome sights of desecrated villages.
He solemnly killed men who possessed
eyes filled with rage and madness.
He stalked through jungles with his wits turned cold
And his nerves edged with electricity.
Soon his best friend no longer walked beside him.
He vowed-
"My sons will never go."
But there were no sons.
His father said to his two brothers-
"You must go. It is expected."
One brother went.
The other said, "I will fight a different battle."
That other brother went to jail.
He marched in anti-war marches and rallied for peace.
No one listened to the pleas.
His last cry was one of pain as a policeman’s club
Bashed his voice to silence.
The brother who went did not see the burned land
And abandoned towns.
He killed men with raging eyes as if it were a sport.
He sang rock while pacing the jungles
And used the giant snakes for target practice.
He thought it was a cool thing to do.
When there was peace, the last brother came home
With his uniform decorated with medals.
He married and had sons.
Years later, when another war began,
He said to his sons-
"You must go."
Note: This is the original poetry of e.c. bradley. This work has been submitted for copyright registration and may not be reprinted in any form without the written consent of the author.
