Marching in Numbers

The folly of numbers are grand, as they march
To and fro, along the lands and seas of steam,
Over hills and mountains going away far,
To keep alliances and share prizes,
So grand are risings of the sun, the sun,
And the mean women are lost in the sun.
They shall never win over crews so large,
Carrying firepower, easy joy from a large power,
It stings the woman, and displays men
As they really are in the sun and at night.
The number of men and women in combat
Equalled the deceased ones, the same as anything.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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