Disclaimer: You can't own something that no longer exists. (You know the drill)
AN: Okay this is in response to a challenge/assignment in my modern poetry class where you use the title of the poem as the source for all the words in the last line of the poem. It is an imitation of a Terrance Hays group of poem called A Grams of &'s that he based of the Anagrams in a local newspaper and I just had to try it. R&R and let me know what you think. (Just as an aside I am currently typing up chapters for my X8 story, Love Is a Battlefield and Carnival. I promises I did not forget about any of them it's just that things get hard when you're a college senior and just moved out on your own.)
Manticore
When little boys cry people say be a man.
We were raised as soldiers and marched like ant-
S. Through a compound corridor 30 feet marching in time,
Forced through training exercises, good soldiers never tire.
If you're too slow in sparring you land back down on the mat.
There is not try, only do, they had dissolved out knowledge of "Can't".
Taught that independence and individualism would never come,
We were only numbers, wanting names and to be a family was out only crime.
We were genetically engineered to be the perfect soldiers, a superior race.
Raised to know we all had an intended future prefect mate.
The night of the escape it was for our lives that we ran,
Away from the oppressive militaristic home where no one care-
D. Twelve children braved the cold & vanished without a trace.
You can take the soldier out of the institution but never break the tie,
To a training that bred you as a killing machine down to your very core.
AN: Okay this is in response to a challenge/assignment in my modern poetry class where you use the title of the poem as the source for all the words in the last line of the poem. It is an imitation of a Terrance Hays group of poem called A Grams of &'s that he based of the Anagrams in a local newspaper and I just had to try it. R&R and let me know what you think. (Just as an aside I am currently typing up chapters for my X8 story, Love Is a Battlefield and Carnival. I promises I did not forget about any of them it's just that things get hard when you're a college senior and just moved out on your own.)
Manticore
When little boys cry people say be a man.
We were raised as soldiers and marched like ant-
S. Through a compound corridor 30 feet marching in time,
Forced through training exercises, good soldiers never tire.
If you're too slow in sparring you land back down on the mat.
There is not try, only do, they had dissolved out knowledge of "Can't".
Taught that independence and individualism would never come,
We were only numbers, wanting names and to be a family was out only crime.
We were genetically engineered to be the perfect soldiers, a superior race.
Raised to know we all had an intended future prefect mate.
The night of the escape it was for our lives that we ran,
Away from the oppressive militaristic home where no one care-
D. Twelve children braved the cold & vanished without a trace.
You can take the soldier out of the institution but never break the tie,
To a training that bred you as a killing machine down to your very core.