Lining The Pockets


Harsh odours filled the war torn air,
Napalm dropped as if with no care,
tortured children screamed as they ran,
clothes ablaze due to one foolish man...
Not that he was there to witness the scene,
at home he could ignore the very loudest scream,
thousands of miles from those he did command,
more pointless deaths we could not understand...
From Vietnam to Afghanistan what have we learned,
lessons from history are still so easily spurned,
'The War To End All Wars' was a headline long ago,
but still armaments are made, our might so to show...
The deaths of millions have been disrespected this way,
if we don't end all the conflicts now, then who is to say,
our children and theirs will ever be safe from attack,
is it really power or just logic that such policies lack?
And as we spend billions to go and kill ever more,
in some far off country we didn't visit before,
we waste all the chances to create for the needs,
of those who die daily from hunger and disease.
If ever there is to be peace of which we can sing,
it will come when we listen to words of Gandhi and King,
bullets and bombs leave no profit for the masses at all,
they just line the pockets of men with minds so very small...
September 28th 2012


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Dave D Poet Rhumour

Wed 3rd Oct 2012 13:58

Cheers Tony - your comments are appreciated :) Best wishes, Dave

tony sheridan

Tue 2nd Oct 2012 18:49

The third line. The photo of those children running jumped straight into my head. Please keep posting your poems. Take care, Tony

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