Concrete Soldiers Poem by Whitney Stevens

Mighty warriors standing tall
They pierce the sky with spear like spires
I fear one day I might become,
Yet another one of them

Uniform and brutalistic
Commanded by a foolish lord
Glass and steel make up their eyes
Their only way to see outside

Their pay is good and the work is easy
But they'll never live to have a meaning
The soldiers will be buried alone
Cold and dark will be their home

Years spent waiting for a charge
Hours spent waiting in formation
Stories of their time won't be told
Their memory will soon be torn