RACKETEERING

Racketeers growing fat
Profiteers growing old,
While soldiers fight and die
Their corpses growing cold.

Tasteless highwaymen
With a heart of solid lead,
Making profits by the tonne
While making good men dead.

Profiteers worship money
While undervaluing life,
Their killing fields are bloody
Death and despair are rife.

Nothing matters for them
Except for unholy greenbacks,
Corpses filling whole towns
Body bags in so many stacks.

Life and death are mere factors
In how these devils make their cash,
Selling death to many millions
Innocence is now under attack.

Jackals control death's industry
Getting a near orgasmic thrill,
Making profit from suffering
As their machines maim or kill.

Jeeps, tanks, jets, and destroyers
Bring joy to these murderous pests,
While in the bloody killing fields
Piles of corpses are lying at rest.

THE END
© Copyright 2022 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia