A soldier in a pointless war
Stands his watch, a useless chore,
There to guard, to hold the line
Of politicians drinking wine;
After pictures are forgot,
In jungles, deserts, left to rot,
Their bones melt in the sandy earth,
They're compost in their final worth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
soldier's final worth, good write. thanks.