Colin F. Jones


For whom my grandfather died, how many live?
How many people visit his grave?
He once had a son but now he has gone;
What of the people he died to save?
Soldiers fight wars – they come and they go.
When they die their loved ones do weep;
Perpetual, repetitive, historic affrays
That our children will no doubt repeat.
What do we do? We bury them deep,
Sing their praises, wave banner and flag,
March every year through field and street,
Drink to their memory and brag…
How well we all fought; how well we all died,
How we honoured the fluttering flag.