As soldiers were, I understand.
We had to rage to march ourselves
To the battleground.

As tyrants held us from behind,
In trenches, deep, one must survive,
Were some are made to trample hard,
And some are laid and trampled twice.

As workers we, I understand.
We’re bred to be an underclass,
Were some may find some tools to rise.
But, the rest of us are tossed aside.

As brethren I - can’t understand.
How some can feast as victors, while
The rest of us are left behind.

Can’t bring myself to fathom why
My bleeding heart was left to die.