Colin F. Jones


Words are what I normally write;
Some expressed with fond delight
And some with serious overtones
That draw me scorn and many groans.
Your words were as I read them, mate:
Perceived by me as they relate.
Yet these two verses leave me lost –
The contradictory nature has me tossed.
Boys go to war despite protest,
While politician’s children stay in the nest.
For I agree when you are poor
The hierarchy do not hear you roar.
But in our countries, rich or not,
Parents use not the power they have got.

You see, your point was understood
in a poem that I thought was very good,
but I don’t think you can say of mine,
that you understood every line
My concern was the “why?” parents grieve
when their children, despite their desires, leave.
And some are happy and some are sad,
and some are proud and some are mad,
but most do not their powers enforce
for they know they do not have a choice.
For we all live in the same damn fold
and do exactly as we are told,
For we would rather they send our kids to war
than stand up and protest what we deplore.

A response to the poem, “Words: What For…?” – ©Copyright February 28, 2006 by Thurman P. Woodfork