Hill

One by one the soldiers fall,
From their pink and fleshy knoll,
A slow fear for their once proud king,
To see his soldiers so retreating.

Some do rise to take their place,
But the ranks do thin at such a pace,
No longer an army thick and strong,
They will all be gone before too long.

His forces gone before it's time,
The king considers this terrible crime,
Brave warriors taken from his land,
Predetermined by genetic's hand.

But with wisdom he knows this is no curse,
He sees that in fact it could be worse,
And that even though this isn't stellar,
On the plus side he won't need to use a shampoo
or umbrella.