Dulce et Decorum est . . .

First published in  the Lake dec 2013

Self medicated by drugs and desire,

dna patented and futures sold,

cloned by deceit we willingly expire,

exploited, abused, true story untold.

Who told the baby in its innocence,

that living would be used to coarsen life,

that a man could be bought and sold for pence,

portioned by a wanker's knife?

Homes now mortgaged for a lifetime or more,

cardboard boxes rented by night,

beached souls, blood leached, clawing at closed doors,

to what Job Title should they take their fight?

Tumorous bills support medic elite,

everything with a price, - just beyond reach,

tick right boxes, or go live in the street,

this is the gospel governments preach.

You must pay, you must save, and you must slave,

a menial's life of constant duress,

where greed is the only way to behave,

as bankers' growth, means more of less.

Telling each other, you must do your best,

futile in the face of this old story,

and new Lie; Dulce et decorum est

pro patria labori . . .

©Niall OConnor    2013