With a towel tied around his neck
Like a cape, he flew.
He fought the monster he read about
In fairy tales, when he was feeling blue.
He rode his imaginary horse and waved
His wooden sword like a white knight.
He was going to be a hero, a savior,
He was going to fight for what’s right.

Little did he know, the fight for right
Is often not with that what’s wrong,
But with a different kind of right.
It’s not the green blood of monsters
That colors the sword of a Knight.
That sword is painted red
With the blood of humans who have died
Fighting for that what was right
For them, for their kings.

Infused with the ideas of winning the war
For that what we were told was right,
We forgot that it’s not people but it’s the war,
The very act of fight, that is not right.
No Knight is a white knight,
No fight is a good fight.



Daily prompt – Infuse

Photographer unknown  
Poetry © Copyright 2017, Opinionated Head