Futile And Abhorrent Poem by Gordon D Wilkinson

Taking a life so futile and abhorrent
Strangers innocently as they pass by
Uncomprehending not reasoning why
Shaking heads about this dark deterrent

Hit by guilty deep depression
Soldiers still care
They do not give this impression
Maybe time will affect a repair

Holding a life by the stock
Rounds inserted
Magazine in and lock
Sounds perverted

When that time comes for the soldiers call
Not all battle hardened veterans there
Youthful eighteen year olds that all
Turned veterans so quickly, I despair

When you look deep into their eyes
From battles when they return
You may see the tears they cried
As their soul in hell does burn

Should we strive to end all war?
Of this, there is little chance
Politicians pout and caw
Sadly, soldiers have to dance