Toy Box Blues

Oh little toy soldier,
Why do you cry?
Wooden hands held tight to your face,
Gluey tears oozing southward,
Unheard sobs in the toy box.

Oh little toy soldier,
What are you afraid of?
Build by corporate talons,
Driven onward by unfeeling authorities,
Led to fight for your spiteful toy box state.

Oh little toy soldier,
Grab your pop gun.
It is time to wage war,
On all of those other toy soldiers.
They are of different toy box colors.