Colin F. Jones

TO A MATE

How often must we die my friend,
Having had the audacity to live,
Through a war we comprehend,
Where we gave all we could give?
How often must we fight it still,
In thought and mind and dream,
How many times must one man kill,
And hear that fatal scream?
The answer is forever more,
So long as our lives last,
For when a soldier goes to war,
His future becomes his past.
That’s why I stand beside you friend,
For only you can comprehend.