Colin F. Jones


I wonder why no one will leave me alone,
Why they keep wanting to dig up the past,
Why do they insist in pointing the bone,
That this incessant trauma must last,
Every day every month, every year of my life,
Nagging and nagging with spite…
‘Tis a perpetual torment shrouded in strife,
‘Tis a wick they insist they must light.
Yet what is the point in recalling a war,
That happened such a long time ago,
Now we are all friends, enemies no more,
And I don’t recall whom I used to know.
I really don’t want to remember a war
That is dead but still wants to grow.