There are no flags to wave
in the middle of the war.
No important words to proclaim
to inspire victory and glory.
Just death.
Mutated shapes of body parts
that have fulfilled
the honour of being buried
in closed caskets.
Send the pieces home.
Give a flag to their wives.
There are no messages in a bottle.
No secret codes that will
define the evil we allow.
No meaning to the carnage we
watch with little interest
on our nightly news programs.
Change the channel.
Switch off the mind.
Seek one of those reality shows
which allows us to participate
by not being present
for the events.
Pass the potatoe chips.
Open the beer.
There are no medals worth having
which make the killing
seem to be of
Divine will.
No waving hands of untold delight
hoping to infiltrate the
mindless drone of battle.
Just silence.
Quiet soldiers in the midst of
the battleground.
Dying.
God bless our side.
Ah! You did that subject justice. Read mine - Time For Another - Adeline
It is our indifference to war and other peoples suffering, that makes it continue. For most, peace is an impossible dream, as long as we think this way, peace will never come and the red poppies will keep growing.
a posing theological level you give...a venue, where faith has to be reviewed ....i like that this poem be part of theological study.....so puzzling and full of intrigue.....cheer up....magnificently done for the reader to ponder....a 10 +++++....God bless you
Amazing how you've put my subconscious thoughts into words............ We share the same emotions without even knowing each other. Great poem, great point! Ruthie: -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A brave and amazing write. quite reflective