Colin F. Jones
WHAT IS IT THAT WE DIE FOR?
~ 1 ~
Awarded: January 25, 2007What is it that we die for, what is it that we gain,
Is it worth the loss of life, is it worth all the pain
Why do we kill each other, and never sit and jaw
Is it just to be big brother that we all go off to war?
“‘Tis all you need in answer, it’s your duty to obey,
Not to ask for reasons, why you do not have a say”
“It is not your place to question, just to do what you are told,
Until you die in battle or just grow to be too old”
“You can’t question what your leaders, have set their minds to do,
Because every lie they tell you is always to be true”.
“That’s the way it is young soldier, so get back into stride,
And march with your head held high with honour and with pride”.
“For you will be the heroes, who withstood the hell and gore;
The nameless mass of numbers sacrificed to win the war”.
~ 2 ~
They don’t care if you die mate; you are nothing much to them,
Just a bunch of gung ho heroes, not really mortal men!
They have calculated the numbers, they know how many of you will die,
So it is no good you grumbling, it is no good you asking why.
It means nothing to your masters, what it costs to win the war;
They have millions of soldiers, what’s the point in keeping score.
They only worry about your coffins, and how much they will cost,
And soon the people will forget how many soldiers we have lost.
It’s just a passing phase, a politician’s powerful whim
Something that he dreamt about, that has motivated him.
He saw the mighty weapons, the hoards of fighting men,
The flying flags and banners and a great sword replaced his pen
He saw himself in armour that he will never wear,
Surrounded by his generals, with whom the glory he will share.
~ 3 ~
If you return from battle, they’ll hang medals on your chest,
In lots of pomp and bullshit, they will gladly then invest,
But to get fair compensation, for the dying and the dead,
Will be a lifelong struggle for a lot of veteran men
They won’t be saying to your mothers, your wives and fathers too,
That we will for your losses, give some compensation to you
But they will praise your efforts, as a gallant fighting corps,
Make you feel so proud and strong – then send your kids to war,
And you will feel so proud, to see them when they go,
In uniforms of splendour, just like you once were you know,
And you will say it is, for your country that you will fight
Though you know what you are saying, is not really right,
But you know they will as brothers, turn from children into men,
And you get angry with the protesters, lest they belittle them.
~ 4 ~
So you were once a soldier, who went off to war,
To fight for your country, in some famed historic corps,
So they took away your spirit, and replaced it with their own,
And trained your mind for killing that you now condone.
And your heart was not in it, but they forced you to go,
To defend your land of “freedom”, against a much inferior foe.
Now you turn to send your children, whom you have prepared,
You have glorified the war that you and your brothers shared.
And your son feels so proud, to do what his dad has done,
And if he is lucky and returns, he will pass it on to his son.
The wheel of life turns full circle, repetitive with pain,
As we do it all over, once again and again,
And the white crosses as they multiply and monuments abound,
We still hear in our aging minds, the mournful trumpet sound.
~ 5 ~
Yet we never speak of killing of slaughter and of gore,
We always speak of comradeship that formulates in war,
We recall the happy moments that are obvious to see,
While our inner minds in turmoil with joy cannot agree.
And though we lock the doors that such thoughts are shut away,
The structure of the door frames, begin to rot and decay,
That as we grow much older and our bodies get more frail,
The rusted locks and hinges do slowly start to fail.
And we cry sometimes like babies, and we hide ourselves away,
For we cannot say what ails us, or are unwilling to say.
We are said to be just cynical, or are just old and grumpy men,
With nothing left to live for except to use the poison pen,
And we know now it is over that the horrors that we saw,
Will be seen again by others as they march again to war.
~ 6 ~
And if we choose to stand up and make our protest known,
We will learn how others felt when they wanted us back home,
It is one thing to defend our country, quite another to invade,
The lands of another nation, when we might otherwise persuade.
And when the reasons for such action is just another lie,
Then I must ask the dreaded question “why do our soldiers die”
And when the rules are changed that to speak out breaks the law,
It might further inflame our thinking as to why we went to war.
And it is a mockery, this freedom that we claim to enjoy,
As the culture that created it we can no longer employ.
For the morals and the ethics that made our nation great,
Are being eroded by the politicians who want a central state.
So as our soldiers die, we’ll just send out more and more,
For what we have now started is an everlasting war.
~ 7 ~
Are we somewhat like a Hitler, or are we simply hitting back,
Because of that September day and the terrorist attack.
Are we justified in killing the folk we want to save,
Or is there some other reason that our leaders justly crave?
Is the war about religion, is it oil, or is it might,
For it is no longer as suggested that our faithful soldiers fight.
Have we opened up a hornet’s nest of terrorists who hate,
Who believe that suicide opens up the pearly gate.
And are they not winning, as they force a change of law,
(That denies our hard won freedoms), that we’ve never had before.
Well whatever are the reasons we must stand up proud and say,
That no matter what we fight for, we must never from it sway.
And we must stand beside our brothers until the very end,
Though we may not know the purpose, nor the reason comprehend.
~ 8 ~
For there is a bigger picture that we may not have clearly seen,
As we mix the brushes colours, that will paint the future scene.
For the nature of the Earth in a court might well defend,
That it is natural for mans survival, that on warfare we depend.
For the flocks they must be culled, be it by famine or by war,
For as people live much longer then culling is needed more.
We cannot keep on multiplying, for like lemmings we will die,
Imploding our great nations, while we are still asking why.
It is the way of nature; it is the way our history rightly shows,
For that which has been planted, according to its nature grows
Those who rise to be our leaders be they hated or are praised,
Are simply pawns in the system, oft dictatorial and or crazed.
And we who are insignificant though we think we are much more,
Are just servants of societies that were created by a war.
~ 9 ~
So if you want to come and get me, for so loudly speaking out,
Then do not give me warning for then I will loudly shout
The black folk know the system, they have long been there before,
And the migrants down trodden, know what happens when you’re poor.
And when you look around you, thinking you have many friends,
You’ll find the street is empty, that on yourself you must depend.
I have stood up before for reason, but alas I stood alone,
Before several thousand people, from where not one would atone.
For few will join the eagles that fly against the wind,
And when you fall exhausted, you’ll think it wasn’t worth a thing.
But we must keep on trying, lest we see our children go,
Back to where the shadows lengthen and the fouler winds do blow.
For if a policeman has the power, to waste you on the street,
Then there is no hope for freedom, until your own nation you defeat.
~ 10 ~
To maintain a multi-culture is to build sanctuaries for the foe,
That we’ll be looking o’er our shoulders, where ever we might go.
If you are going to be a Muslim, why to our country do you come
And build your churches everywhere, as you have obviously done.
You have come to share our treasures, but not our cultural way
Take the best that we can offer, yet to a different God you pray.
And we are condemned as racist, if we make our true thoughts known,
But you have no such harsh restrictions, for your own that you condone,
For your religion condemns our culture and all that we believe,
And while you live among us then ‘tis doubt that we’ll perceive.
So our laws have changed accordingly, to dig the traitors out,
That preach and practice terror, while they pretend to be devout.
And your protests are just bullshit, and designed to deceive,
And the terrorists that you hide, will not their mad plans achieve.
~ 11 ~
Soon the factions will be spawning, little hate groups everywhere,
As the internal rot keeps forming, that can’t ever be repaired,
And our peaceful towns and villages, will become cesspools of hate
And freedoms stallion will have bolted, long before we shut the gate.
Is this not what some folk are thinking, is it not a prediction true,
Is it not a fearful feeling that squirms deep inside of you.
If we do not use our noggins and do something about it now,
Then to the rise of a brand new culture we are all about to bow.
For what do we have to bind us, as political correctness takes away,
The character of our culture, that respect and trust decays.
For as our restless confused future, outruns our rich and golden past,
We must be strong enough to answer all the questions they might ask,
That we reveal mistakes and errors and face the truth of our desires,
Lest the lease we have on tolerance before its time is up expires.
~ 12 ~
Let us stand firm for our principles, be loyal to the flag,
And stand behind whom we elect, lest our colours fade and sag.
We have the choice of voting, for the man we want to lead,
Be he a total moron, or a man the nation really needs.
The choice is with the people, thus the people must comply
With the way the leader leads them, be it theirs to do or die.
It is reasonable to comment when you feel you disagree,
But there is a line where common sense, is drawn for all to see.
For to ridicule a leader when your country is at war,
Is to aid the foe in battle, nothing less and nothing more.
And to aid the foe in battle means that more of our soldiers die,
More mothers lose their sons, and more widows vainly cry.
So if you cannot talk in whispers, then do not talk at all,
Lest it is your real intention that more of our soldiers fall.
~ 13 ~
Some like to hear their own voice, there is no pleasing them,
They will always be losers, who write with the poison pen,
Who have no respect for others, who express their different views,
Who gloat and brag in victory, but are ungracious when they lose.
They are unable to convey to you, an agreement when you’re right,
And will scheme and plot your downfall, in the darkness of the night.
‘Tis their manner that they need to show, with rhetoric so verbose,
That is based on insecurity with conceit running close.
They have heavy cervix botheration, but alas life’s final act,
Death will obligate them to the nothingness, they project as being fact.
While the rest of us perhaps by need, will to a gracious heaven go,
Created by our constant prayers, that it really could be so.
For who can say the power is not in the faithful hearts belief,
In something that is wonderful, that cancels out the grief.
~ 14 ~
There is always one who rebukes the words, of he who has the say,
Whose purpose is to cause dispute, and cloud the clearer way.
Who does not have to answer for, the transgressions he provokes
And makes of it when cornered that, what he says are merely “jokes”
A rabbit has many burrows, to which he can quickly turn and flee,
And can pop up all around you, from behind almost every tree,
But though he has long ears, his dull eyes are very poor,
So he cannot see beyond his nose, which is often brown and sore,
When self respect is absent, and folding money is their God,
They don’t believe in anything, till faced with the final sod,
Then they have nothing left to cling to, to quell the horrid fear,
As their treasures lose importance, as death comes drawing near.
‘Tis then they meet their spirit, or whatever lives within,
And thoughts that there might be a heaven, inside their minds begin.
~ 15 ~
So we have come full circle for the beginning is the end,
Life is just a spinning wheel, so why do we pretend,
I asked what is it we die for, what purpose before our time,
And I say there ain’t no purpose, if it costs more than a dime.
And I say there’s none more precious than this old little me,
But don’t none of you go dying thinking you are going to set me free,
Because your efforts will be worthless, a waste of precious blood,
Because you can never make with cannons a pastry that is good,
You will never make my friends any better than they are,
Nor change the twinkling beauty of a distant wondrous star.
In fact all you’ll do is use stuff, so we can manufacture more,
To make corporations richer and the ordinary man more poor.
And give politicians satisfaction and put them in history books,
Along with fat bellied puffing generals and countless media crooks.
~ 16 ~
It is this Australia that I fight for ‘tis this Australia that I love,
And the eagle that is flying alongside our peaceful dove
Is a very powerful raptor but a good and loyal friend,
And that we rely on that friendship is not something we pretend.
We are real life loving people, who work hard to earn our pay,
Who compete vigorously in the markets and on the fields when we play.
We fight for freedom where we have to, commit ourselves in trust,
And stand up to be counted when to be counted is a must.
And although we are aggressive, in the field against the foe,
We commit ourselves to peace where ever we might go.
And one day when we are powerful, for surely that day will come,
We will have learned to hold our fire, though keeping primed the gun,
For we will ever stand for freedom and believe in peace on earth,
And calculate our basic values, on how much the lowliest life is worth.
©Copyright November 27, 2005 by Colin F. Jones