Men like us
trudge in mud under Russian fire
while callow others load the missiles.
Men like us,
those poor we hate
kneeling when the muezzin calls
On both sides of any rifle
there always were men like us.
They were: builders and rapists and crafters and papists
they were: porters and beggars and cashiers and farmers
they raised walls at the border to prevent themselves crossing over
they voted for those who promised them safety
And I can't put into words how tired I am, brother,
of those fucking men like us.
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