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The Draft
He says, "Don't be scared," in a booming voice.
You just stare and reply, "This wasn't my choice."
They just called out your number, and right there you fell,
At 4 a.m. tomorrow you'd bid your family farewell.
For the next three years, this would be your home.
This violent wasteland, no room left to roam,
with the blood and the bodies that covered this place.
You hear people screaming, saying, "Help! Help me please!"
You wonder if you should help, but you're soaked to your knees.
Who would do this to such an innocent race?
You think as you search for one smile on a face.
You can't seem to find one, it's all such a blur,
But then you spot one on the face of Hitler.
You think about saying something aloud,
Something like, "Hey man, are you proud?"
But you hold back, knowing if you do,
You might as well think of yourself as dog food.
You see many people unboarding a train,
And then you notice them forming two lanes.
Weak and old sent to death, young and strong sent to work.
They look so depressed, not one showing the slightest smirk.
And to think this is only one day of many more,
You wish you were looking back at this horrific shore.
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