September 11th Epic Poem Chapter 16

The Following is chapter 16 of the September 11th Epic Poem. The rough draft was written between June 2008 and May 2010. It is 2,000 lines long and has 1,499 rhyming pairs.
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (The Morality of War)
When kids grow up they learn to strut
            As if they’re really smart.
They land a job that pays a gob
            And learn to play the part.
They start to speak with bits of Greek[20] 
            Or Latin in a string;
And hide their gaffes in paragraphs
            That hardly mean a thing.
 
The end result’s that each adult
            Is dumber than he knows.
For as his years dispel his fears           
            His confidence still grows.
He’ll build a box with heavy locks,
            To hold a languished id;
And there he’ll pitch, the lessons, which,
            He studied as a kid.
 
This trend explains why many brains
            Believe that war is wrong.
They start to rant and ask why can’t
            We all just get along.
They make it seem as if this dream
            Is easy to command:
Forgetting truth, that as a youth,
            They used to understand.
 
For when we’re young, our hearts are stung
            By evils we observe. 
We fight for hope, so we can cope,
            With guts and skill and nerve.
At times our mom will come along
            And make the kids play nice,
But come the day that she’s away
            We’re forced to pay the price!
 
Can you recall the toughest brawl
            You’ve ever had to wage?
Perhaps a punch you took at lunch
            From someone twice your age.
But as a kid, you quickly did,
            What you would not do now:
You kicked that jerk and grabbed his shirt,
            And slammed him on the wall.
 
So grownups too, must often do
            The same to stay alive:
We arm our troops to help improve
            The odds they will survive.
If we’re attacked we strike right back
            With soldiers by the ranks;
Supported by a large supply
            Of missiles, planes and tanks.
 
But what if we, ourselves, would be
            The instigating side?
By marching forth across the earth
            In overzealous pride?
By killing lads beside their dads
            And raping whom we choose;
Could we condemn the likes of them
            Who’d pray that we would lose?
 
Does God up there observe or care,
            When humans settle scores?
Does he object when lives are wrecked,
            By armies fighting wars?
For those who trust a God who’s just,
            The answer must be yes;
I do believe that He can grieve
            For ev’ry one of us.
 
 
Since God gave birth to all on Earth,
            He cares for ev’ry soul.
The strong, the weak, the bold, the meek,
            The hungry and the full.
His love’s not bound by piece of ground
            Or color of the skin;
Each human breath from life to death,
            Draws all its strength from Him.
 
He gave us legs to help us drag
            Ourselves around the world.
He gave us hands to plow the lands
            Where none before had tilled.
He gave us brains to build the trains
            According to a plan;
He gave us hearts so each might start
            To love his fellow man.
 
But God’s intent for what he sent
            Is usually refused.
We think we may decide the way
            Our bodies will be used.
For often might decides what’s right,
            And justice is not found;
And tyrants reign through fear and pain
            As if there are no bounds
 
They use their feet to crush the weak                                            Stanza
            Who ask when they’ll be fed.
They use their fists to break the wrists
            That reach out for their bread.
They use their smarts to blow apart
            A city’s last defense;
They use their rage to kill and cage
            In ways that don’t make sense.
 
These thugs are not, as some have thought,
            At all misunderstood.
They make it clear their reign of fear
            Disdains the common good.
What right have we when victims flee
            To shrug and make amends?
It’s best to stand, as God demands,
            By treaties with our friends[21].
 
 
So when you fight make sure you’re right,                 
            With ev’ry blow you take.
When quenching life in bloody strife,
            Be cautious of mistakes.
But understand the other hand
            That comes from giving in:
To offer peace with too much ease
            Can also be a sin!
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