The first gunshot panged across every acre
as the warcry of a thousand giddy generals
seized the shot’s dominance
and monopolized the airwaves.
Their blaring trumpets became sirens of the battlefield
as boats of devoted soldiers sailed towards
their obvious demise eagerly and with pride.
Trenches, inches deep,
were dug into the grey beneath,
escaping the waves of bell whistles and car horns
that echoed incessantly above the lips.
These wars raged on for hours,
but the words that started them
rang louder than any gun or trumpet or scream
Amidst the shots, however,
the strategists come out to play
They create their best plots with the noise around,
so they put up with it day after day.
There's an agony to the art,
but these plans can only be crafted
through the necessity in the middle of the firefight.
And as swiftly as the first flag waved,
the last one burned and the fields were left empty
to prepare for tomorrow’s battle.