Colin F. Jones


The guilt man feels is a plea for justice,
the voice of conscience logic cannot quell,
that purges man of all hatred’s substance,
and the ignoble egoisms of his Hell.
The tide of justice washes moral shores;
a complex beach wet from the blood of war
defining rules and changing failing laws,
drawing men together through the service door.
We are wealthy to make another man rich,
strong to give another man our strength.
We each in brotherhood are a binding stitch
and we stand as high as our combining length.
Fear not change, as time sweet justice seeks,
nor words of men who a different language speaks.