"I Can't Change the World, but Maybe I'll Change Your Mind"

How old must I grow
In order to be seen?
What youth should i show
To avoid the guillotine?

Thirteen men, wrapped in white
Circle the swelling crowd
Among us, they consider whom to knight
And whom to kill, head bowed

Many of us will end stiff and cold
Few of us clad in armor
The rest of us? We’ll be sold
Doomed to work for farmers

Amidst our horde, the desperate shout
Struggling for attention
Most will collapse, still crying out
Having only received a pitiful glance of intention

Should I wave my arms, calling out
Or stand perfectly still?
Am i old enough to cast about

Or far too young to kill?

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