Colin F. Jones


There has never been true peace on Earth,
So long as the moon has rolled around its girth.
War staves not off death’s final fate,
And brief peace will always war inflate:
For when life lemmings into crowds
Then the scales produce the required shrouds,
And all the harsh viruses and toxic seeds
To the same peaceful space, extend their needs.
Tis war that cleans the contaminations out,
And peace that threatens the round-a-bout;
And all the suffering and distress
Seems not to change this long process.
For we seem so highly tuned for war
That it stems directly from our core.

So maybe yes – we must live with war,
Since we have never been without it before.
But we can try like hell to curb its wrath,
Suffer less the consequences of its aftermath,
Maybe re-direct it down a different track,
But it has a bad habit of coming right back.
We could exterminate them who cause it all,
But then there would be no one left at all.
All the religious freaks and unsociable reds
Whom I’ve heard, it’s true, hide under beds:
And all those folk who don’t think the same
As we gracious folk, who are never to blame.
No I think we are really stuck with war,
But still my friends, I’ve been wrong before.