To all you do nothings
Sitting quietly at home
Afraid to voice your opinions
Sitting still as stone
You will be the first ones in line to die
When the bombs start to drop from friendly skies

You think by not speaking
Hiding in your little room
You and yours will be saved
Come the day of red doom

So remain where you are
Never uttering a word
When the war begins
Your screams will not be heard

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby