Emily Winters                                                   

Fodder

I’m running through the gauntlet,

Yet I feel nothing.

Everyone tells me they care,

But only the ones who hold me in the night

find the time

to think

(about this mess)

(the mess we’ve (they’ve) made).

Melting through me,

Exposing bone to the cold, cold air,

The unforgiving atmosphere

(please forgive our sins)

If we aren’t (if I don’t) live (lucky),

Then I guess it’s fine.

I stood in, I ran down, the line.

I weathered the storm with all the rest;

Now my affliction,

It hurts.

where were you?

Did you care what happened to us?

The flaming ball which consumes us all,

Bleeds through my shirt,

Dyes the river red, paints the sky with crimson…

At least the Earth flies our colors.

Oozing, goozing

(losing)...

We lost our way,

I lost my life (am losing),

And though sad, it’s true,

I know -

I’m destined to remain nameless and faceless;

Just another statistic,

Just more forgotten fodder to feed the machine of war.