Tuesday, 1 August 2023

Death March

 




You see them pulled from the street

Dragged from their homes while the women cry

Fighting for freedom, they were told

Fighting for the democratic way

While money from a western land

Pays cocaine sniffing freaks who send them to die.


(It is the best money ever spent, said -

Old men who sleep safe and snug in bed.)


Now see them two weeks later -


Sprawled in the mud 

A hulking charred box beside,

That was to be the chariot of victory 

White faces with fear

Still touched,

Not yet smoothed away

By the blur of decay -

Though there is nothing

To fear now

Not anymore - 


All that they had, mind and body and thought

Ended in the sound of a cannon shot.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Full comment moderation is enabled on this site, which means that your comment will only be visible after the blog administrator (in other words, yours truly) approves it. The purpose of this is not to censor dissenting viewpoints; in fact, such viewpoints are welcome, though it may lead to challenges to provide sources and/or acerbic replies (I do not tolerate stupidity).

The purpose of this moderation is to eliminate spam, of which this blog attracts an inordinate amount. Spammers, be warned: it takes me less time to delete your garbage than it takes for you to post it.

Proceed.