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We took back a village today.

Not much going on:

A few broken windows,

A burned-out car or two,

A corpse,

And one poor sap of a teenage soldier,

Hands on his head, crying out for Mum and Dad.


A broken old man emerges,

Shaking his fist and shouting ‘Kill them all.’

Another sits thoughtfully by the stream,

Praying for a missing child.


Our flag, mounted on a captured tank,

Flaps, in its own kind of triumph,

Lazily, against the wind.


◄ Cold Soup

Captain Crappy Rides Again (Or 'God Help Us') ►


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Stephen Gospage

Wed 14th Jun 2023 06:20

Thank you, Manish. I appreciate your comment. Yes, this is a shocking time, sometimes difficult to face.

And thanks to Nigel, Stephen and Bethany.

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Manish Singh Rajput

Mon 12th Jun 2023 16:52

A disturbing poem, superbly written. A lot of emotions to ponder on; emotions that are contagious and felt by the reader. You have shook me with this poem, Stephen.

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