[ Baby Steps ] Poem by Garathe Den

Before I ever left the womb
I had a count and a rank
I was a body at disposal
For the war or the bank
There'd be a forming and a fashion
And a plan to partake
A statistic yet determined
An agenda yet blank

Before I ever learned to speak
They had me marvel the sights
They'd put a flag within my hand
And let me wave with delight
Amongst the cooing and the murmurs
I was a product of plight
But when the bombs burst in the air
What was drawn was fright

Before I ever learned to stand
I had a hand in the battle
Strolling patriotic parades
With veterans dismantled
Showing support for the troops
Each one a story to tattle
Then they'd be shocked back to the terrors
By the automatic shakes of my rattle

Before I ever learned to read
They had me trained in submission
Had me following in footsteps
Of an ancient religion
Never questioning the folly
Of timeless superstitions
Had me pledging my whole life
To a flag of division

Divided, the nation
Is the one I was raised in
Where corrupt politics
Form the congregation
Where identity's lost
To the illusion of patrons
And neighbors spark civil wars
Over who can best lead the nation

This is the hatred
That I learned and practiced
State educated
Enforced by harassment
Violence begot
To the violence of masses
All faithful to State
And its deplorable tactics

These are the bindings
That once held me encumbered
Mindless to the State
While my heart stay in slumber
Spineless to the truth
That all war is a blunder
And while love was laid dormant
We were all tore asunder

All ripped apart
From love and compassion
All serving evil
While forming our factions
Duteously marching
Baby steps in reaction
To the forming of soldiers
And willing assassins