What would you do, with this time?
Do a good deed, or commit a crime?
Or perhaps, as intended, on Armistice,
you start to reflect and reminisce,
upon things; that you wish; to redo,
but after analysis, they’re part of you,
just like a loved one, who you adored,
who spilt the blood upon the floor,
to protect you, the land, that they called home,
in the hope, of no more; needless warzones,
as the clock ticks down, these two minutes,
worlds are reborn, there are no limits,
but as the recap; of the Last Post plays,
the reality sets in, to wake real days,
where such good thinking is destroyed,
by the powers that be, that play with toys,
echoing the roars, of the wars gone by,
when they said remember, they indeed reply,
with no candour, fuelled by a stale greed,
where, oh where, is a brand new seed?
So, what would we do, in this time?
Do a good deed, or commit a crime?
Or perhaps, as intended, by our course,
we just have be true, to our own force.