Those for Whom the Game is Real

Those for whom the game is real,
Play not with toys but graves and steel. 

And those for whom the game is play, 
The stakes are low, of mud and clay. 

Though they mistake their game for true, 
They’ve never played with life to lose. 

They know not what it means to die, 
Not having lived a real true life. 

They never learned of sacrifice, 
Of broken bones and bloody eyes.

For they play games, on lit-up screens,
In leather seats, and houses clean. 

While those for whom the game is real, 
Play not with toys but graves and steel.