As war’s abrasion strips his fine veneer

man’s inhumanity his ilk defines.

Bi-pedal dog, scent-primed, unleashed, packed off

he brings a licking to some wrong-tongued foe.

While back in civvy-street, his leaders rise

short-slept from tasting civilized excess

this day newborn in sinless rectitude

to move their boarded pawns with gifted guess.

In blinkered ignorance of C...

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