Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

I saw not god in the dead man’s stare –
No sign of a spirit lurking there;
Just a lifeless face of a young man dead,
Smeared with red blood that he had shed.
No doubt they prayed for him back home,
But it made no difference as his death has shown
And all the hype and flag flying there
Changes not the agony nor the despair.
Who cares if the man was brave and bold?
Who gives a damn whether he was young or old?
They sent him off to war to die…
And nobody ever knows quite why!
Yet all we do is grieve and yearn…
For a slaughtered soul who’ll not return!

~ 2 ~

They all march along in grand parades,
Down city streets through colonnades
Draped with banners and flags galore,
Glorifying the dead who died in war.
Tired old men who like to hear
The peoples of their nations cheer;
Formed up as they did once before
When off they went to fight a war
To kill and maim and life destroy
Without knowing what they did it for.
Still puppets on politicians’ strings
Who stand for all that dying brings…
Rows of white crosses in a field
Where truth lies lost and well concealed

~ 3 ~

Oh all those medals so well do shine
On those proud chests in wobbly lines
Who having nothing left except their pride
And the pain and guilt that dwells inside.
For the people who watch, see not the gore,
Hear not the screams that are part of war,
Nor see their loved ones slaughter men
With a rage that would astonish them;
Nor see the hate and the lust for blood
That must be experienced to be understood.
For warfare is the evil that lies unseen
In the hearts of those held in high esteem
Who preach that peace is gained by war,
Knowing the seeds of conflict will germinate more