Beware of commerce of conflicts and wars: A poem

 Beware of commerce of

conflicts and wars: A poem

War weapons fly, a market so grand,

From consumers' goods, to war's command.

Gold flows to weapons, a profitable trade,

Where nations mobilize, fortunes are made.

Taxes are gathered, for futures unseen,

Young lives are traded, a brutal machine.

The rich grow richer, the poor fade away,

While rockets keep roaring, at the close of the day.

It's a business of battle, a carefully spun lie,

To take from the many, beneath a blood-red sky.

The powerful profit, war-economies boom,

Insane commerce of war, tax-payers' survival gloom.