Take the few
The weak
The small
Send them forth to fight
A fool's battle
Of skills poorly matched
Light a match
To the incendiary
Watch the fire grow
All consuming
As wounded sheep
Mill about the field
Bleating, screaming,
Natural selection.
An experiment, to see if I am capable of writing one poem a day for an entire year. Readers are welcome to comment on the work, or post their own work in response.