War and Peace?

From what I hear, war is hard to bear,
Yet all around you are in the same boat.
They're all sharing the tribulation with you.
Each has his part.
Each is a part.
All strive and suffer together.
All share the pain.
All share the victory.

When unemployed you stand alone.
You are isolated.
Those around you not only aren't suffering your hardships,
They also vehemently despise you.
Official and laymen both, dispassionate about your plight.
It's your own bloody fault.
You're a malingerer,
Whom their precious taxes shouldn't have to support.

I'd rather fight and die with a rifle in my hand,
than endure this purposelessness,
this uselessness,
this loneliness,
this isolation,
this poverty,
this dearth of opportunity,
this contempt from every quarter.

Maybe I should fight and perhaps even die:
Not with a rifle, but at my keyboard.
Striving to lay bare the truth to an apathetic public mind,
About the rancid system under which we're forced to live:
protected by impervious walls of secrecy and privilege,
through exclusive institutions, cliques, unions and gangs,
corrupted by nepotism, fraternity and the Old School Tie;
which enriches the exigent and impoverishes the wise.

My Poems

War and Peace?