At recess I yelled towards
the playground,
prepare for war.
There was a quiet in my men,
it lasted only seconds
before we awoke and
pointed our swords towards
the prize.
We shelled the
recession and tortured
our future slumber;
the whales called for peace,
but we
smelled a victorious blood.
On the field I
took off my armour
and ate
my victim’s dreams,
they soiled themselves
and I found my savage rest.
The teachers did not watch
for they were tiring
themselves with being
no one of importance
and dying of
mediocrity.