Wooden Boxes Poem by David Harris

In any war the wooden boxes
multiply as time goes on.
Wooden boxes with broken soldiers
whose home comings are filled
with sadness and tears of the loved ones left behind.

White crosses fill the fields
where the perished lie in peace.
No more pain and agony
bothers them anymore.
Just a forever slumber in this place of peace - heaven.


Sadly we never seem to learn
of the sadness of wooden boxes
and white crosses row after row.
One day we might realize
the futility of wars.




23 April 2016