Little man
Gets enraged,
Is why every war’s
Waged,
And nothing stays
The saber-rattling
When it’s simply
How we’re made
And what we gain
From our crusading
Must be powerfully
Displayed
And what the makings
Of arms racing
Yields an arsenal
Arrayed
And what precipitates
Intimidates
Obliterates
And fades
Like an imperial ambition
Spread too thin
In its campaigns