a battlefield should be honest, with no aces up the sleeve
or better yet, not a battlefield at all
the lion should lay down with the lamb,
the rich give his bed to the poor,
and the heart should always
be free to explore the treasures of love
but because this life is a battlefield
littered with the blood and bones
of an endless war
we all must carry a sword
when yet young i was, it
all seemed but a playground
where i ran free as the breeze
turning somersaults in mid stride
but here an ace, there an ace
and when at first my sword i drew
i surfed the waves, skied the hills
stayed a step ahead
and never noticed the blood
but the aces piled up
and somersaults failed
I'm not really sure when i began to walk
with cement blocks tied to my feet
through a field of quicksand
but once mastered, it's hard to unlearn
but here now, in this field of blood and chicanery
where so many battles have been known,
so much blood has been shed,
i long only
to give my victories back
for only a playground
