Colin F. Jones


Self sorrow never found a way,
To rid sadness of its frown,
And all the angry words we say,
Will never dress the clown.
What is the point in wind to piss?
Cast salt into the sea?
‘Tis better that the mind dismiss,
What with it can’t agree.
Should a Mother take the blame,
For her son who died in War,
Because she gave him life and name,
But failed to make him pure?
Let us not cause our own ill shame
That we ourselves deplore.