No War Is Worth The Loss Poem by Haruna Garba

Farm fields sown mines,
guns sneezing balls of fire,
lightening striking
incessant its frequency
labor force in non-agro job,
at last like the rainfall,
the last drops drift to a halt
and neither the victor
nor the vanquished means a thing-
doesn't say much for the cause

With people falling,
buildings crumbling,
rubbles blocking pathways,
the lucky unlucky fleeing
abroad seeking for asylum
which is hardly coming forth-
no war is worth the entire loss.

The same roots remain buried
those that ignited the fuss
and now after all the hurricane,
they shake hands, content to live with it
and this makes one to wonder
about the beastly nature of man.